


Just Out of Reach

by BitsandBobs, nakedxtime



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Dorian is a partial virgin, Eventual Happy Ending, Falling In Love, First Time Bottoming, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Riding, Rimming, Roleplay Logs, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-04-13 05:24:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 61,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4509504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BitsandBobs/pseuds/BitsandBobs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nakedxtime/pseuds/nakedxtime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lovely little story of an elf, named Fenris, and a budding magister, named Dorian, that's really not so lovely. They meet under the worst circumstance and are forced apart before they can really explore the bond they instantly shared. Years later they find one another again only to come to realize that they cannot be more than friends in the public eye. But they keep their relationship a secret from their friends and one partner of the mage variety.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Fateful Meeting

Dorian tugged at the collar of his robes with a grimace, glaring at the back of his father’s head as they made their way up the stairs towards the lavish party Lord Danarius was throwing for some celebration or another. While yes, Dorian greatly enjoyed having a true reason to drink copiously and flirt shamelessly with the stronger sex, he didn't want that reason to be one Magister trying to out do another. Not another trying to impress his father at least. He raised a brow at the elf that took their coats, smirking at him and reveling in the ability to make him blush before he scampered off to put the cloaks wherever they were stored for evenings like this.

"Father, I'm going to find myself a drink, if you would be so kind as to excuse me," he stated, falsely sweet before slipping away and grabbing a glass from the first waiter to pass by with a tray of them. That was promptly downed before he swapped the empty for a fresh one. Though this one he nursed a bit longer. He had to scan the room, see who was a threat. See who the host was. Where the exits were. Not that he could utilize them. They were a good distance from his own home and there weren't any carriages that stayed out late like this. He spotted the man and grimaced. 

Old. Ugly as sin. Balding? Yep. Definitely thinning hair. But Maker was the elf next to him gorgeous. Complete opposite of his Master. He swallowed, eyes roving shamelessly from halfway across the room. So that was the elf that had been declared champion. Huh. A dreadful business to be sure but damned if Danarius hadn't snagged himself a perfect prize. He spotted his father waving for him while he made his way towards the other Magister. Again he downed the drink and then swiftly another before snagging yet a fourth to hold in his hand while his father made small talk with this Danarius...

*

Fenris stood at Danarius' right, and looked out at the party with a sort of...detachment. Aloof, some people would call him. Distant. But he was simply obedient. He was loyal. He was _victorious_. He had fought with everything he had, and had cut down his opponent without mercy. He wanted this. He _needed_ this; he knew that deep within his very soul. (..but _why_ , he...couldn't recall. Names vanished in his mind like a puff of smoke, ethereal and fluid. Had it been for the prize? It certainly was an intimidating prize...)

Veins of lyrium swirled gracefully across his skin, as if he were more a living work of art than the product of a ritual. Beneath the thin tunic he wore -one of Danarius' favorites for how little it left to the imagination- the lyrium branched into even more intricate patterns and swirls, drawn by the Magister's own hand. The brands still stung his skin. But his Master had wanted them, had wanted him to have them, and Fenris had agreed.

Fenris watched a man surge towards them through the sea of people, and tensed. An admirer? A challenger? Danarius hadn't given the order to attack. No, he merely sat there, looking pleased. 

And who was that nearby? Another admirer? Another magister, perhaps?

Fenris merely bowed his head, lips fixed in an emotionless frown.

*

Dorian tried to read his father, gauge what he was up to. He looked far too pleased to be coming to a party. Especially one thrown for him by a Blood Mage. Of course it wasn't unexpected to be one. But that his father- one who rarely resorted to it- seemed happy to be here in the presence of a man that regularly used it and often for his own amusement. Though he was distracted by the elf in front of him when they stopped near the other and his Master.

"Magister Pavus. Welcome to my home. I trust the journey was pleasant? Have you tried the wine? It's from my private stock." Translation? _I hope it didn't take too long to reach my lavish and overbearing home that's just a tad too far to be considered proper and my wine is probably more expensive than anything you've ever laid eyes on._ Oh the politics of reading the speech of Tevinters...

He tuned out, suddenly distracted by a sweet song that someone was singing. He closed his eyes, not noticing as Danarius smirked at his reaction to the song. Dorian turned his head a little to try to better hear it. It sounded so familiar, like when he'd found his father’s stash of raw lyr- his eyes flew open, trained on the elf as his breath left him. The elf was the one singing. Or rather the Lyrium that _wasn't_ an intricate pattern of tattoos. 

"Do you like him? Fenris is a rare creature indeed. Isn't he beautiful? A priceless amount of Lyrium branded into his flesh. Grants him abilities I hadn't anticipated when I first came up with the idea. It's been quite handy in tight situations. And... Lucrative in others." he chuckled, looking to Dorian's father.

*

"I thank you again for inviting both my son and myself," said Halward. "It is an honor." Not so much an _honor_ as it had been a matter of personal pride. But, with the pleasantries out of the way, the magister could let his gaze settle properly on the elf at Danarius' side. 

"Lucrative? Yes, I can...imagine..." he muttered, nodding slowly, his mind working away as he looked the elf over, tracing the swirls with his eyes for as long as they would wander - unable to stop himself, really. He had never seen anything so carefully-done (that the intended recipient did not _die_ from, at least). And it did not escape him how _fixated_ his son was upon the elf, either. Yes, lucrative, indeed. "And how did you come to choose him out of all the others for such a _prestigious_ honor?"

Politeness laced with insults. Such was the way of politics.

Fenris listened to the conversation around him with an indifferent ear. Yet, as he realized it was about _him_ , he straightened to better accentuate the markings that stretched the length of his body. As he did, he caught sight of one of the Magister’s -the younger one- staring at him, and stared right back, green eyes bright and..curious beneath the stoic mask he wore to please his Master.

*

Dorian’s breath hitched just slightly when he saw those eyes, his own widening just a bit before he had to look away. He had already stared too much, his father was sure to notice. He couldn't help but glance up at him again before turning his gaze to his Master.

"He fought for it. Came out as the champion amongst champions. He got his wish and in return he became my creation. My guard." he paused and looked from Dorian to Halward, "Became mine to do with as I please." he fairly purred, reaching up to practically pet the elf. "Isn't that right, my dear wolf?"

Dorian’s skin crawled in sympathy for the other as the old lecher touched him, doing his utmost to keep his lip from curling. "And what does that mean for us? Why mention it at all if you're not trying to get something from dear old daddy here?" he asked bluntly, not a fan of the Tevinter speech. Why dance around words when you can get what you want directly? Too much wasted time. Time he could have used to get wasted by now. Time he could have used to convince another to meet him in an unused room for a bit of fun. But no, his father had dragged him over for a reason. And they were speaking about the elf for a reason. 

Danarius had the good sense to look offended. "Halward, your son has been raised... unconventionally to say the least." _Your parenting sucks._ Dorian just rolled his eyes and downed his drink. As soon as he was able to get rid of it on a passing tray he crossed his arms and took a defensive stance.

"Perhaps we should discuss delicate matters in my study? After all, I'm sure you have questions as to how this work of art of my own creation was made."

*

"Yes, Master..." Fenris merely bowed his head at the touch of his Master, those hands that had chosen him, branded him, claimed him and given him _purpose_ sending a shiver right down his spine. And yet-...and yet, it did not give him _fulfillment_.Something deep inside of him flinched at Danarius' touch. He raised his head when Danarius spoke again, but found himself unable to keep his gaze from straying to that of the man beside his Master's guest. 

The way _he_ spoke touched that part deep inside of him, and he wanted little else but to hear him speak again. It intrigued him deeply - and his Master hadn't tried to silence him yet. 

Halward stiffened at this rebuke, and drew in a breath through his nose - but only after he shot Dorian a _look_ over his shoulder. "Of course," he said, smiling thinly at Danarius. "Many questions, yes, and I've no doubt you have answers for them all. If you will but lead, we shall follow." 

There was little room for disagreement in Halward's voice, and he again looked at Dorian, beckoning him with a glance to _come along_ and _cease that foolishness_. 

_*_

Danarius just let out a dissatisfied hum before turning and walking away. "Come." he stated sharply to Fenris, gesturing for the other two to follow him. He swept up the stairs of the small ballroom and to a small set of double doors. He waited for the small group to be in the hallway entirely before locking the door and walking to the third door, gesturing everyone inside. He had no doubt that Fenris would automatically take his normal post but stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. 

"My dear wolf, stand in the center. I'm sure our guests wouldn't mind seeing the wonderful work you've become." he purred in his ear, stepping away and taking his seat behind his desk. "Please, be seated. You are _honoured_ guests after all. Fenris, remove your tunic." he ordered, leaning on his desk and using his hands to hide his smirk, subtly watching Halward’s son. 

Dorian hid his shock very well as he heard the orders, sitting and glaring at the Magister’s in the room. He understood the need for servants and slaves. But to use them for... what he thought Danarius was suggesting? Was he expecting he and his father to use the elf? And together? He shuddered. It took everything he had to merely glance over the bared elf and not outright stare at him. But Maker was he beautiful. "Father, you can't be serious. What are we doing here? Because I certainly don't wish to be in the same room with you and a half naked elf and his Master." 

_*_

Fenris blinked at his Master's order, having not expected to be sent from his side. He was used to being shown about, but to display himself for the benefit of any _but_ the Master's gaze? 

Green eyes flicked to meet Dorian's, before they fell to the floor. The elf, heeding his Master's orders, shed his tunic without a word. It was merely another duty, after all, and Master willed it. Fenris let the thin fabric pool around his feet like silk. He stood, expectantly, in the center of that room in nothing but his small clothes, leaving very little to the imagination, indeed. 

Halward looked to his son with a frown, and his lip curled in disgust at his question. 

"Nor do I _expect_ you to be, Dorian. We plan to leave, of course. _I_ have no desire to watch. I have seen how you _act_ , and it has brought nothing but rumors to our door. Rumors that _you_ have done little to prove false." he snorted. "These... _urges of yours_...they can be easily cured, I believe, if you could be allowed to get them out once and for all." 

_*_

Dorian stood suddenly, outraged at his father and Danarius. "So let me get this straight. One; you refuse to see me as something other than a distasteful stain upon your family tree for my desires. And two; you expect me to use a slave for just such a thing you hate about me? If this is what you think should be done then at least pair me with someone who has the power to refuse. Oh wait, I can refuse. And I do. You cannot force me to slake my disgusting lust upon him." he snorted, moving to leave the room. 

"You would do well to listen to your father, whelp. If word got out that you've refused the generous offer to bed a powerful save of a powerful magister in his own home after being so graciously invited in and then given such a generous offer... who knows how the rest of the people would react towards your family. Your mother would be shunned from gatherings. Your father would certainly be snubbed in business and political gains. Are you sure that's what you want?" Danarius warned, standing and brushing imaginary dust off of himself. "Because that is what would happen. I've offered my best slave to your father to help you with your... condition. My prized possession. In return I gain quite a lot. More than you should know." 

Dorian seethed silently, gritting his teeth and hanging his head. He had no choice. Little more than the elf standing in the center of the room. "And what of Fenris? Does he have _any_ say what so ever? Or is he bound as much as I am to do as you wish with little regard to our actual desires?" 

_*_

Danarius smirked, standing and walking around to Fenris. "You pledged yourself to me, did you not? You pledged that you would live out my will as if it were your own, did you not? Thus he wishes to do this because I wish him to. Do not act like a spoilt brat, you're not presenting your father a healthy image of his skills as a parent and mentor." he stated the last bit darkly, moving past Dorian and Halward to the door. "We will return towards the end of the party. I suggest you use the time wisely. Fenris?" he made sure to get the others attention before smirking, "Do try to leave his heart intact." 

The magister left and locked the door when Magister Pavus joined him in the hall. "Fenris will be gentle. Or perhaps not. I've never loaned him out before. But I may begin doing so after this. I think you for the idea. Shall we rejoin the others? This way." 


	2. Bittersweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Possible trigger  
> -Mention of Non-con between Danarius and Fenris
> 
> This is basically 15 pages of pure smut. With a bit of angst at the ed. We are not sorry.

Dorian was tempted to blast his way through the door, but resisted, figuring the Magister’s home was warded against such things. At least for this current situation. "You're his body guard. Why is he whoring you out like this?"

*

It was strange, being separated from his Master without a foe to defeat.

"My Master does as he wishes," Fenris said, as though it were an irrefutable fact. Danarius had ordered him, and now Dorian was doing the same. "I carry out his will."  
The truth of it was, the elf...didn't really know _why_ Danarius was doing this, but that he _had_. But...what was to be expected of him? Again, he felt that small part of himself, deep, deep inside begin to question, as Dorian now did. _Why? How could he be free of this? When?_ Yet, as quickly as the questions began to arise and he began to _doubt_ , the lyrium flared beneath his skin, searing away such thoughts, and he doubted no more.  
Fenris straightened as he felt Dorian's eyes upon him, and bowed his head.

"What will you have me do?"

*

"What will I have you do? I would have you do as you pleased for one. But that isn't an option for either of us. I'm bound by my father- who would surely do everything in his power to take everything from me, and worse. And you're bound by your Master for the same reason. Can you think of any way to fake this? Or would you just tell your Master that we never actually consummated this horrid affair?" he asked without any venom in his voice. He knew the situation was hopeless.

No matter how attractive the elf was. He couldn't bring himself to take advantage of him. If he were free then it would be different. Meeting him in a market perhaps. Or the battlefield. Unlikely friends that became more. He shook his head of that little fantasy. This was difficult enough without becoming a hopeless romantic. 

"Have you even had sex before? Do you even know if you like men? Women? Both? Anything?"

*

Fenris watched Dorian, his eyes trained on him as he walked from the door over to him, pacing the floor in his agitation. For a moment, the thought occurred to him that Dorian would be quite attractive, were his shoulders not hunched in anger, and his mouth not twisted into a snarl.

To hear such a question posed of him that _wasn't_ an order, but of _him, Fenris_ (somewhere in his mind, a _different_ name rang in his ears, one that he hadn't heard in so very long...) - it was enough to give him pause. "My Master has only bid me serve him alone...but-.." That fine, full mouth of his curved into a frown. "I am not _inexperienced_ , if that is what you mean."

*

Dorian dropped into the chair he'd vacated earlier, hands pressed together and against his mouth. "What would you like _me_ to do? I... I don't enjoy sex unless my partner is enjoying it. So I'd much rather you tell me what you'd like. If anything. I feel that that way neither of us feels I'm taking advantage of you."

As he spoke he was trying to come up with ways they could fake it. He didn't want the elf by force. And he knew, were the roles reversed, that he would be fighting everything tooth and nail to prevent this. He would have the elf take him instead, but he assumed his father wouldn't have arranged this if he thought Dorian would be on the receiving end of things. Which was also appealing. Having this backfire. He smirked at the thought before dismissing it. That would only be worse for the both of them. 

"Should we start by being in the same state of undress?" he asked, completely awkward about this now. He tugged off the robes, stepped out of his shoes, and stripped the rest of the way down to his own small clothes. He still looked grump, but less so when he took in the sight of Fenris fully for once. "You are quite a vision, though I'm sure you've been told that before. Even without the Lyrium brands." he admitted softly, trying to get more in character, more in the mood so to speak.

*

 

Though obedient in all things, Fenris could not help but stare at the man in front of him, watching keenly the way every little inch of skin was revealed.. and when Dorian was in the same state of undress as he, the elf tilted his head, as though to admire him fully. "The Master has said it to me, yes, and often..." said Fenris plainly. "..but, there is something in your voice-...something more..."  
And there, for the barest fraction of a second, a smile came to Fenris' face, honest and _warm_. "And you are.... much fairer than my Master." Almost instantly -as though he had done a great dishonor by sullying his Master's name so-, that little smile vanished, swallowed up by the calm mask that seemed to be the elf's natural state.   
"...I will enjoy whatever you enjoy," said the elf. "Whatever you...wish to show me. However I can best.. please you," Then, quietly, he went on. "Master is fond of holding me down while he takes his pleasure..."

*

Dorian had little time to revel in the compliments from the other, the fact he knew there was more than perhaps possession in his voice- genuine admiration for how Fenris looked for him, and not the Lyrium that still sang so sweetly. Though he'd ignored it. And the fact that Fenris actually found him pleasing to the eye...

But the moment passed the second _those_ words came out of his mouth and he was across the room in an instant. "He... He holds you down?! That monster. Why anyone would force another to... No. If we're doing this then it'll be done right, at least. I'm not going to hold you down and... take my pleasure from you. I can't believe these words are coming out of my mouth but I need you to tell me if I do anything that causes pain or something you don't like, understood? That's not a request." he felt dirty- practically ordering the other to tell him to stop if he didn't like something. 

"You won't be punished at all if you tell me to stop doing anything or everything. Promise me you'll do this." he fairly pleaded, steeling himself before stepping closer and touching Fenris gently, grazing his fingers over his shoulder, taking a moment to collect himself. "Did you know that Lyrium sings to mages? Yours has a very sweet song. Like a lullaby my mother used to sing to me before she died..." he whispered, looking from his shoulder into Fenris' eyes.

"If you'd permit me, I'd like to kiss you. That's as good a place as any to start." Dorian didn't ask Fenris if he'd ever been kissed. Didn't want him thinking about any past encounters that's he'd had with his _Master_.

*

A nod was all Fenris gave, before he felt the soft, _warm_ touch of those fingers against his shoulder, and exhaled a sigh that was, for once, unforced. "Oh..? No.. I did not." Yet, somehow that did not surprise him. He knew that lyrium was important to mages, and that it had _hurt_ when Danarius etched it into his skin...but he had not heard anything about a song.   
He pressed against Dorian's hand, seeking more of that warmth, more of that touch that made the pain more bearable.   
Without being asked, Fenris rose up on his toes to press his lips to Dorian's, all but surging against him to taste the soft sweetness, the _warmth_ of those lips. Danarius' were always so dry and their kisses rough, and always scented of his strong, aged wine.   
Dorian was different. Dorian was...nice.

*

Dorian wrapped his arms around Fenris when the other initiated the kiss, welcoming it gladly. It meant that Fenris wasn't opposed to touching him. And the way he'd leaned into his touch... A sigh of contentment left him when he pulled his mouth away to better angle his head, leaning in for another sweet kiss.

It was strange, he'd never felt like there was a spark between him and a partner before. Perhaps it was the Lyrium though. He could feel it reacting beneath his fingers as they roamed over his back slowly, feeling the muscles the other had developed. Elves were naturally lithe, not meant for close combat. Not built like Fenris, like he wielded a blade bigger than he was. He slowly brought his tongue to the seam of the elf’s lips, silently asking for entry and once he was granted such he slowly invaded, tasting the other and pulling him closer by the hips.

If his father only knew that doing this would merely further cement his desire for men. He was glad that Halward thought this would turn him away. But it was such a sweet sin to have Fenris pressed against him in all the right ways. A hand slipped into his hair, gently tugging before he pulled away from breath this time. "Maker that was nice... Have you always known how to kiss so sweetly? Or is it just a natural thing for you?" he murmured, a grin sitting crookedly on his lips, eyes trailing over Fenris' face before settling on his neck. He leaned in, trailing his tongue over the skin there, not to follow the Lyrium, but the taste the sweat on his skin, how he tasted naturally.

*

Fenris let his lips part for Dorian, leaning up so that the man wouldn't need to bend so much to kiss him. He was tall, and firm. Well-built. He'd never seen anyone like him...  
"I- _ah_!" he shivered to feel those lips on his skin, and his tongue trailing, tasting in ways that were so _very_ different from his Master. So...welcome. Where Danarius only touched as he pleased, Dorian-....Dorian.. _cared_? Could a magister care?

Danarius had told him to do this. Danarius wanted this, and so Fenris wanted this. _Yes_ , he _wanted_ this.   
A whine, low and sweet, escaped the elf's lips. He knew Danarius liked it when he showed how much his touch had been appreciated -even when it was a lie. He wondered if Dorian liked that, as well?

Wordlessly, Fenris tilted his head, eager to feel what else those lips could do.

*

Dorian shivered a little at the sound Fenris made, nipping his neck just a little. Perhaps Fenris wanted this on his own. Outside of what his Master told him to do. "If it's not to presumptuous, I would have you astride me. To have you ride and take your pleasure from me. I'd like to be able to see you lose yourself to pleasure."

He'd also be able to let Fenris be in control for it. Have at least one time he'd be able to enjoy what he wanted. Dorian would find release no matter what Fenris did to him. But it would be so much sweeter and more fulfilling if Fenris were able to please himself.

The mage slid his hands down Fenris' sides, stopping when he reached the waistband of his small clothes. "May I remove them?" he asked softly, tracing his tongue along the length of one pointed ear before moving down his jaw to his mouth in order to taste him again. "To be honest, I find you quite desirable. If we had met another way, I still would have been taken with you the moment I saw you." he whispered, thumbs dipping below the fabric to brush the V of Fenris' hips.

*

Fenris froze to hear such a _request_... but quickly turned it over in his mind as he felt those hands upon him, caressing his skin in a way that did not leave him feeling used and empty - no! Instead, those hands - _Dorian's hands_ \- left him shivering in _pleasure_ and fairly aching for more. And to think that he wanted him in the position of power, when his Master had always demanded it...  
...no. He would not think of Danarius. Dorian had made it clear he only wanted Fenris to think of _him_. And think of him he would. 

"Yes..." Fenris' voice was a husky rasp, belying the honest arousal he felt. He gasped as his hips jerked forwards into Dorian's touch, and brought his arms up around Dorian's firm, broad shoulders. He could just about feel the magic radiating throughout every inch of the mage's body, and yet...he was not afraid. Not of it. Nor of him.

"And... are you taken with me now, ser?" Suddenly, a rush of worry shot through him, and the elf looked up at the mage wonderingly, curious to know if-.. if he was doing _well_.

*

Dorian carefully pulled the lacing open of the Elf’s pants, letting them drop to the floor. He felt down his flanks, bending his knees just a little to be able to reach the sensitive skin where thigh met ass. He suddenly gripped him firmly and lifted him, carrying Fenris over to his Masters desk- wanting to defile it... 

"I am. I am so very taken with you. More than I think is advisable or safe." If Danarius thought to, he could practically own Dorian, and through Dorian he could own Halward. His father was an idiot. But Dorian knew that.

The mage was ecstatic that Fenris was touching him without being prompted, unconsciously flexing muscles that a Mage wouldn't normally have so Fenris could feel his strength. Though he didn't realize that Fenris would be able to feel the magic running through his veins. He ran his hands up Fenris's legs, thumbs grazing his inner thighs. But he detoured before he reached the apex of his legs, stepping closer to press against the other. 

"Does it feel like I'm not taken with you, Fenris?" he whispered in his ear, letting the other feel the pressure of his own erection.

*

Fenris' own reply was cut off by a quiet moan that wasn't entirely forced. He had expected rough and impatient hands, tugging, pulling, _forcing_ \- A groan escaped him, and he shook his head, enough that the fringe of his white hair fell to hide one jade-green eye. "No," his voice was a whisper, hushed to hide his own arousal. "No, it-...it doesn't." He leaned up again and caught Dorian's lips in another kiss, careful and slow, but no less heated. The elf's teeth scraped gently over Dorian's lower lip in a surge of eagerness entirely alien to him outside of orders. "Does _that_ please you?"  
The air against his bare skin roused another quiet groan from him, and reminded him of his own nakedness, and of how Dorian was still, in some manner, clothed. He sank wordlessly to his knees before the mage and tugged at the man's own small clothes to free the erection trapped there.

*

Dorian groaned softly at the attention Fenris paid him, tongue darting out against the elf’s mouth playfully. "It does." he breathed, stepping back and gasping when the elf was suddenly on his knees in front of him. He grasped the edge of the desk firmly, holding it so he didn't accidentally grip the perfect white hair. "Fenris... Oh Maker you’re gorgeous..." he groaned, licking his lips.

His legs trembled just a little, looking down at the Elf’s reaction to seeing him fully bare for the first time. "Is it... Am I acceptable?" he asked breathlessly, hoping that he was good enough. He didn't know what Danarius had, if he were bigger or smaller than Dorian. He didn't know how Fenris viewed a man’s cock- as a device for at least _potential_ pleasure, or did he see it as a weapon for pain?

He intended to make Fenris see stars with pleasure. "I want to taste you, Fenris." he murmured softly, stepping out of his small clothes and kicking them aside.

*

"Ah-...acceptable..." Fenris blinked at the turgid length before him. Dorian's cock jutted proudly from between his legs, nestled amongst a thatch of dark curls, and already, drops of precome had begun to dribble from its dusky head. " _Yes_..." he replied, breathlessly. His first thought was that it might... _hurt_. Dorian was certainly _impressive_ for a man - larger than Danarius, for certain.  
His tongue peeked out to swipe along his own lips as he steeled himself for the command to take that length into his mouth, but, yet again, the mage caught him off-guard. "...taste.. _me_?" the elf echoed, raising his eyes to meet Dorian's in disbelief. Still...it was what Dorian wanted, was it not? He was here to _please_ Dorian. He rose from the floor, never breaking their gaze as he stood before him once again. "Will you have me on the bed, then, my lord? Or.." he blinked, looking at Dorian, and the way he leaned up against his Master's desk. "..do you wish me to stand?"

*

 

Dorian groaned softly, taking Fenris's hand and pulling him up gently and kissing the palm of it before looking up into his eyes. "I would have you anywhere. But I believe the bed would be more comfortable. Especially if you decide you indeed with to ride me. Your knees would certainly thank you." he only partially teased, licking his lips before picking Fenris up with ease.

"I'll gallantly take you there. And please, my name is Dorian. I have no need for titles nor do I wish for you to have to lower yourself and call me one. We're in the same boat so to speak. And we're not playing by their rules. They expect me to get this over with quickly. But I intend to savour every inch of you that I can. Take my time learning your body and making you cry out in pleasure. I wonder how many times I can get you to climax before you can't anymore." he mused to himself, smile on his face not predatory but genuine in his curiosity to learn his partners body.

He kneeled up on the bed when he reached it, beyond the partition screen- which was strange to him and he tried not to think about why Danarius had a bed so close at hand or the fact that Fenris had probably been brought to this very bed for this very reason but for _very_ different intentions. He didn't relinquish his hold on the other, scooting up on his knees and gently letting him drop into the center, chuckling at how he bounced a little.

His eyes trailed down the elf’s lithe body, settling between his legs. His eyes widened in shock; the Lyrium was there too. How the other was able to achieve an erection was beyond him since he was lucky to be alive after such a ritual that created the brands in the first place. He reached out, gently trailing a finger from the base of the elf’s cock that rose from a nest of white hair- _carpet matches the drapes, Dorian_ \- to the tip. He couldn't help himself as he leaned over Fenris and suddenly engulfed as much of his flesh that he could, only stopping when he gagged and had to pull back. His mouth tingled from the reaction to the Lyrium, one hand gripping the root gently while his tongue licked the head firmly. "You taste fantastic, Fenris..."

*

He stared up at him in undisguised wonder, unused to seeing such a smile on someone's face. _Yet another way in which his Master and this man were different_. Perhaps, he thought, life would be different if he had been owned by this man, instead.  
 _Or even better, with no Master at all..._ the secretive part of him prodded. _To be free, to have him without being told..._  
As soon as those lips touched him, Fenris cried out and threw his head back, his throat perfectly bared as he arched off the bed, muscles taut, his back a perfect bow. Praises were one thing he heard so often; false commendations from admirers, people seeking his Master's favor alone, but this time - _this time_ \- he let himself believe that it was all for _him_ \- that it was true. That he was not merely being praised as a product of Danarius' skill and power.

Dorian spoke, and Fenris believed him. Whatever he wished...he could not refuse. He groaned at the brush of that honeyed tongue upon his flesh, and squirmed impulsively when Dorian pulled away. " _More_..." he whined, such words of greed having never before left his lips, save to please his Master. " _More!_ "

*

Dorian looked up at Fenris and grinned wickedly, unable but to secretly preen that he'd gotten the elf to voice his own desires. He obliged without hesitation, sucking the crown into his mouth, minding his teeth as he varied the pressure he used while sinking down the length of him eagerly. He couldn’t help but appreciate the power Fenris was giving him by shedding the cloak of 'it's my masters wish therefore it's mine'. That Fenris was asking- demanding more.

Distantly he wondered if Fenris had ever had attention paid to him like this... and was glad that he was giving him this regardless. His own erection was throbbing with need, but Dorian was completely distracted from it. Fenris was much more deserving of his attention. Which he laved with his tongue and then his fingers as they slipped lower to gently tug his sac. 

Couldn't let Fenris finish before he really got to enjoy it. 

He groaned when he tasted the first spurt of pre-ejaculate, tongue dipping into the slit it came from gently before he pulled off again, panting and licking his slightly swollen lips. "You can hold onto my hair if you need to. I don't mind if you mess it up in the least." he breathed, dropping his head down so he could suck along one side of the elf’s length and then down the other before swallowing him down- taking it slowly this time so he could get more into his mouth and hopefully down his throat this time.

*

Fenris had barely drawn breath to respond, when pleasure flowed through his veins with more fire than the lyrium branded into his skin; searing, scorching, _blissful_ fire...

He tried to speak when he heard Dorian's voice, and it seemed to float, to sing above the waves of pleasure.. but, in place of words, a moan escaped him. Moan after moan after moan, low and sweet and deliciously _wanton_ left his lips as he tried desperately to feel each and every sensation that Dorian gave him, to hoard them like a dragon, and never let them go.

His fingers curled into Dorian's hair as soon as he was allowed, and he clung there, holding onto the mage as though he were a lifeline, his legs twining themselves around that muscular chest. " _Dorian_..."

*

Dorian couldn't help but groan when Fenris finally gripped his hair, silently using a spell to use the oils from the sweat Fenris was coated in to slick his fingers. He let them sort of 'dance' down past his sac and pressed against his perineum, eyes trained up at the others face to look for discomfort. One finger traced around the rim of his hole, adding slight pressure but not enough to penetrate yet. 

Oh how he wanted Fenris, wanted to see him blissed out of his mind and lost in his pleasure. He released the others prick, eyes dark and pupils blown wide as he carefully watched Fenris' reaction to his pressing his finger forward, so very slowly until he was through the first and then second rings of muscle. He'd been holding his breath, waiting for Fenris to lash out or move away, deciding he didn't really want this. 

"Don't forget your promise." he whispered propping up on his elbow to use his free hand to slowly stroke the pulsing flesh- was that really how fast Fenris' heart was beating? Dorian couldn't help but smile softly at that, working his finger slowly until the whole of it was in.

It wriggled methodically, working the muscle loose before pulling it back and slowly adding a second slick finger in next to it. When both were in, he crooked them, searching for the spot he'd only barely been able to find within himself when he'd had the time to actually work himself open.

*

Fenris stiffened as he felt the press of that first finger, breath catching in his throat. Panic. Fear. Doubt. The urge to pull away stole over him in an instant, but he couldn't move, pinned by the echo of Danarius' voice in his skull. _What was he doing?_ His eyes sought Dorian's, hoping to find an answer in those dark depths, even as that finger pressed forwards. "W-..what-..?"

The first spark of pleasure shot through him enough to make his hips rise off the bed. His cock bobbed against his belly before it was caught again in Dorian's warm grip, drawing a whine from him as his eyes slid closed.

_Oh..._ The elf gasped, and suddenly understood. _Oh!_ How good it felt! How.. slow? Gentle? He had not known that such pleasure could be drawn simply from a pair of fingers! He cried out his pleasure honestly as those fingers pressed against that spot deep within him, and he writhed again.

*

Dorian had to bite his shoulder- hard enough to draw blood- as Fenris reacted, never having seen anyone react so.... honestly to pleasure and suddenly quite close to finishing at the sight Fenris presented with his head thrown back, legs splayed as far as they could go in blatant invitation, and chest heaving. A surge of possessiveness ran through him at the thought that he was the one bringing the elf such bliss. He had reduced this being of power to a quivering mess of sex. And he'd only gotten two fingers inside just yet.

He groaned softly, working his fingers so he was barely brushing that spot- never directly now so he wouldn't overwhelm Fenris too much. He wanted Fenris, wanted him without being told to take him. And by Andrastes tits did he want Fenris.

He worked a third in along with the other two, sucking Fenris down again, suddenly needing to see Fenris come from his attentions like he needed to breathe. Or not breathe since he had the elf’s cock down his throat. His fingers moved to drum gently against his prostate, throat working around the length sliding in and out. He _needed_ this. Needed to see it. Feel it. Taste it. 

And when it finally happened, when the threads holding Fenris together were cut, Dorian very nearly came himself, just watching the show being put on display for him. His fingers were squeezed in a vice that Dorian swore he could feel down in his dick. His mouth flooded with more than he was anticipating so he had to pull off to swallow and then breath, angling his head away so the elf’s seed didn't get anywhere aside from his cheek and down his neck. He slowly brought the other down, moving to lay beside him, fingers gentling their movement, free hand brushing Fenris's hair from his face, mouth working near his ear as he whispered sweet nothings, compliments and commending how well he was doing and that he was gorgeous and amazing and he couldn’t believe he had the chance to show Fenris how he could feel.

*

The elf cried out as pleasure ripped through him like a flood, catching him up and threatening to carry him away altogether. Never had he known anything so perfect - so _pure_. The lyrium in his skin sang all the more sweetly as he felt those teeth sink into his flesh, that brief pain only heightening his pleasure in a way he had never known existed. Fenris' blood raced, heart pounding as he squirmed against the sheets, writhing beneath Dorian's touch as he was utterly undone. His skin shone with sweat, and so lost in pleasure was he that the lyrium glowed brighter than it ever had, and for one instant, his entire body was alive with power.

In that moment, he was completely _free_.

He heard Dorian's voice near his ear, on the bed, against the sheets, and he blinked at him in a daze, green eyes wide and dazed. He murmured something -not in Common or Tevene, but Elvish- as he came down from his high, only half-realizing what he'd said when the words left his lips. " _Stay. Please._ "

*

Dorian chuckled softly, withdrawing his fingers carefully and wiping them on the sheets. "You speak a language I don't understand, I’m afraid. Sounds like a plea, though. Whatever you ask I will oblige gladly." he murmured softly, kissing along his jaw. "You were perfect. I almost came just watching you." he smiled, nuzzling his cheek.

Normally Dorian would be expecting his own climax, be it rutting against his partner or by reciprocation. But he was actually quite content to wait until the time was right for it. Until Fenris was at least coherent again. 

The mage shifted in order to kiss the elf softly, a hand sliding up his stomach to his chest. "How are you feeling?"

*

"I-..." Fenris blinked, still warm from the haze of his own climax. "....light. f-..." he blinked, as though he almost couldn't believe his own body. " _free_... I-...." he looked to Dorian, and was, for a moment, fearful. What had happened to him? "...I feel-...I-...I don't..know..."  
But of one thing he was _certain_ \- he wanted it again.

He did not protest the mage's lips against his own. Indeed, he sighed into the kiss, eager to feel that soft hair between his fingers again, and hungry to feel him close. Even as he dared bite at Dorian's lip, he ran a tentative hand along the hard lines of muscle along Dorian's back and sides curiously, but appreciatively, allowing himself a moment to just _feel_ and savor him as though he were a fine wine, given to him, and him alone

*

Dorian chuckled, humming against Fenris's mouth. "Good. It means I did my job right in making you see stars." he grinned down at the other before taking his mouth again. He took his time, feeling the elf’s body under his hands again, memorizing every dip, swirl, scar, and anything else he could feel. He never wanted to forget how it felt to hold this man in his arms.

He arched into the light touches from the other, pressing himself against the other with a soft groan. He couldn't help but revel in the curious hands, panting lightly as it just helped build up his arousal. Fenris was quickly going to make him lose his mind. Wouldn't be a bad way to go. Death by amazing sex with an impossibly hot elf.

His own hands slipped lower, fingers tracing the Lyrium trails at the elf’s hips. "Did you know that you glow when you climax? And your Lyrium sings even louder."

*

The elf stared down at the hands upon his own hips in wonder at how _good_ they still felt, so gentle upon his sensitive skin. "Does it?" Fenris asked, watching Dorian's fingers, entranced, as they trailed over the swirls of raised lyrium.   
His cock gave a weak twitch at all of the attention, sending a spark of pleasure right up his spine. He watched the delicate swirls light from within, a faint, pale blue glow against the sheets. "Oh...." he murmured, and marveled silently, before another spark of pleasure warmed him. Would that he could feel Dorian's touch forever!

"..do you.. like it?"

*

Dorian smiled, summoning light magic to his finger tip and smiling as the yellow and blue seemed to meld together to make green- the same colour as Fenris's eyes. "It's beautiful." he murmured softly, moving his fingers inward, index and middle fingers parting and trailing down either side of the elf’s cock. A grin tugged at his lips, eyes watching every twitch the organ gave. 

"Well that belies your refectory period. What did you say, before? When you weren't speaking Common or Tevene?" he asked softly, looking up from his now questing fingers to look up at the elf again, leaning over him to see better.

He watched his face as his fingers gather through the sweat and seed on the elf’s skin- another quick spell to change the composition to make it slick- and then sliding them into him again, one by one.

"Does it hurt?" he asked softly, "Do you need me to slow down?"

*

Fenris' cheeks flared a ruddy pink at the mage's questioning, and when he looked up at him again, his gaze was almost _shy_. "It was Elvhen..." he said quietly, as though he was afraid Danarius might overhear. "...I-...I asked you to _stay_. ...To not leave me.."  
He turned his head against the sheets, as if to hide himself away, though he was still clearly exposed, and clearly enjoying Dorian's touch. 

"No-..." the elf breathed, his voice catching in his throat "No, it.. doesn't hurt. Doesn't..." he groaned, and his voice caught in his throat. "Don't slow down.. don't stop." He tightened around those fingers, not to force them out, or make him stop - but to try and draw him deeper in. His toes began to curl from need of it all, and when he spoke again, it was in Tevene, short and sweet, but no less pleading. " _Don't stop..._ "

*

"You don't have to hide from me, Fenris. I won't ever judge you." Dorian breathed, looking down at the other before shifting to kneel between his legs. He gently parted his legs, watching as his fingers disappeared inside of the other. No resistance going in, but it was like his body was sucking his fingers back in, needing to be filled. 

Maker, the elf was going to be the end of him.

"Do you think you're ready for more?" he asked breathlessly, eyes snapping to Fenris's face before creating more slick and pulling his fingers free, coating his long neglected prick. He hissed at the contact of his own hand, squeezing the base to keep himself from losing it so soon. He needed to be inside of the white haired beauty before losing himself to pleasure.

And even then he had to make sure to reduce his partner to a puddle of sex. Unable to articulate a word or sentence. Unable to see properly. Desire demons would have a hell of a time even _trying_ to imitate that image of perfection. The mage shifted, pulling the elf’s hips flush against his own, cock nestled between those perfect globes of flesh, before he flipped their positions, putting the elf astride him like he'd promised to do. 

While yes, Dorian got a fantastic view of everything from here, it gave Fenris the ability to control everything. Until it became too much. Then all he would have to do is ask and Dorian would eagerly flip them over again and take over from there. But he wanted Fenris to first see how it feels having control of his own body, taking his pleasure when it's given freely from his bed partner. If only for tonight. If Dorian could only give him this then he could die at peace, knowing he gave a slave something he never thought he could ever have.

"I'm yours, Fenris." he whispered, hands on the slender hips, gripping gently and only for support, not controlling or forceful.

*

Fenris' only reply was a whine as he felt those hands tighten around him, lifting him effortlessly into Dorian's lap. He groaned at the warm, slick press of Dorian's cock as it nudged against his entrance. "..mine?" he murmured, uncomprehending. There had never been much in his life that he could recall as having been _his_. That _he_ had owned. He had a bed, but it belonged to his Master. He had a position - a _gift_ granted by his Master. Even his _life_ was not his own. But to have Dorian look at him in such a way -as though he were the only being in the whole of Thedas that mattered- that was something entirely new to him.  
And he craved it, this wanting, this _belonging_ , this chance to claim and be as greedy as he wished, for Dorian wanted him _happy_...  
Dorian wanted this. Fenris wanted it even more. "Mine." he murmured around a breath as he pressed back against the mage's cock. That slick head nudged against his entrance, and Fenris gladly allowed it, rolling his hips to entice just as much to ease the way. "..ready," he breathed. "..I'm ready."

*

Dorian arched a little, hips rolling up to meet Fenris', kneading his hips a bit. "Mm, then take what you will. Lift up, I'll hold myself steady, you can take it how you want." He breathed, reaching down between the elf’s legs to grip his own erection when he lifted his body up. The mage positioned himself, holding steady while the other let gravity lower his body down. Dorian’s eyes very nearly crossed as he slid up into the impossible heat, suddenly acutely aware of how much warmer Fenris was than he.

Must have been the Lyrium. Or maybe his cock had just found its new favourite home. He didn’t know. Just that it was incredible. A loud groan tore out of his throat, head going back and eyes shutting for a moment before he forced himself to watch, not wanting to miss a moment of this.

"Beautiful. You're perfect, Fenris... Maker this is amazing." And they hadn't even gotten started yet. Not fully. It felt like forever and yet no time at all when Fenris was fully seated on him, chest heaving as he licked his lips, looking up at the vision in his lap. "Still doing alright?" He breathed, eyes dark and hungry.

*

The elf steeled himself, bracing for the sharp ache he had come to expect from sex.. the sharp, fast movements, thrusting roughly in-and-out - but Dorian-...Dorian slid inside with such gentleness that it stole away his breath.   
Thick.. so thick, and _full_. A shudder ran through Fenris, and he clenched around him with a low, throaty groan.

He settled himself, seated fully in Dorian's lap as he basked in the feeling of _fullness_ for as long as he could. "Y-..." He was asking. The mage was _concerned_. Whether it was truly concern for _him_ , or for the man's own organ, Fenris did not know, but he could have come right then and there from the attention. " _Yes_...." he groaned, feeling his cheeks flush as he felt those eyes on him, and realized that this, too, -this attention- was all for _him_.   
He needed more, _craving_ it with an intensity he had never quite felt, and a will that was totally his own. Slowly, he willed himself to move, sliding up along his length, and rocking his hips back down in a slow roll, seating himself fully once more to gauge the mage's reaction with wide eyes. Was he doing well? Did he wish him to continue? He hoped he did...for, he was unsure if he'd be able to _stop_.

*

Dorian gently grasped Fenris' hands and placed them on his chest, letting the elf know he could use Dorian for leverage to gain his pleasure. Though he should have been prepared for him to move, the breath was knocked right out of him when Fenris started moving for real, toes curling in the sheets as he squeezed the others thighs.

" _Fuck_.... Fenris..." he groaned, rolling his hips slightly. He slowly rocked up whenever Fenris moved down, just to get that tiny bit deeper, eyes locked on the elf’s face. This was... Unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Sure he'd fooled around with other boys when he was a bit younger- boys were boys and more so when they started learning what their dicks were for after all. But Dorian wasn't a boy anymore. And while he'd had sex, it'd never been... So intense. He'd never been more concerned about making sure his partner came, not even caring if he came himself or not. 

He felt the Lyrium singing, glowing, growing warmer. And if he were inclined to say- and he was- he swore he could feel his own magic reacting, responding to the song of the elf’s Lyrium. And he couldn’t. Stop. Making. Noise. It was fantastic. 

Dorian’s hands swept up and down Fenris's sides and legs, pulling the elf down to ravage his mouth- needing to taste his pleasure. Feel his moans and breathless sighs against his own mouth. To swallow every noise to keep it for himself. One hand stayed in the soft white hair, and the other slid down his back, gently squeezing a pert ass cheek.

*

Fenris cried out against Dorian's lips, and brought himself down upon Dorian even faster than before, the soft sound of skin-on-skin broken only by their moans and muffled gasps for breath.  
"Dorian- _ah!_ " the elf moaned, throwing his head back as he rode him, quickly learning how Dorian moaned loudest when he was buried to the hilt. The lyrium thrummed inside of him, sending little sparks all the way through Fenris' body as the telltale glow began again. He was so overwhelmed by pleasure, it wouldn't be long at all before he came a second time - though this time would be even better than before, because he had _all,_ of Dorian, and Dorian, all of him.

*

Dorian trembled when he heard Fenris call his name, and the mage couldn't take it anymore. He gripped onto the elf’s hips, thrusting up into him just as eagerly as he was being ridden, grunting his pleasure against sweat slicked skin. He helped keep Fenris steady with one hand while the other suddenly wrapped around the bouncing prick, using the precome there to aide in stroking the other to completion.

"Come on... Come for me, Fenris..." he fairly pleaded.

The mage knew the other was close just based on how brightly he was beginning to glow. And when the elf flew apart, Dorian swore it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He cried out himself as the others body tightened around him, making Dorian buck almost wildly. But he kept his own orgasm back, needing to see Fenris through his own before seeking his release. And only when Fenris was just starting to come down did Dorian lurch forward and pin Fenris on his back, holding his legs and chasing his climax.

He knew it would prolong his lovers’ pleasure, and kept in mind that too much stimulation could cause pain via overstimulation. But Dorian was so close. And his hips stuttered and he buried himself completely when he finally came, fairly roaring Fenris's name. He braced himself on shaky arms, panting heavily as he opened his eyes, staring down at Fenris in disbelief. How could he walk away from someone so... Incredible? How was he supposed to never see him again? He didn't know anything about him, really, but he knew that his life was going to be bleak and gray without this being of light in it.

He reached up, cupping the others face and leaning down for a soft kiss, lying next to him and pulling out carefully. He wanted to stay as long as he could. And it was only a matter of time before their respective Masters came back to fetch them. "You're... You're like a dream... I'm going to wake up from this, I know it. You're too perfect to be real." he whispered, barely loud enough to hear himself.

*

He lay against the bed, boneless, as his heart raced, and the world span dizzily around him. Dorian's voice rang in his ears, mingling sweetly with the hum of the lyrium throughout his body. He felt warm and sticky and so very _pleasantly sated_. So...content. _Complete_ , if he could even think such a thing.  
He was fairly sure Dorian knew already - as the man seemed to have a sense about him- but he had changed Fenris completely. Exposed him to wonders that he had never even knew existed - and, awakened that part of himself that had remained dormant for so long.   
"Perfect...?" Fenris echoed. Danarius had made him to be his idea of perfection - strong, fierce, ruthless, _mindless_ -but it was the mage beside him who was truly perfect. The man to whom he would hold all others in comparison. "No... _you_ -.." he murmured, knowing that their time together was likely nearing its end, if he knew his Master well at all. " _You_ are perfect."

*

Dorian chuckled, leaning in for another kiss- this one feeling bittersweet. "Then we are perfect for one another." he murmured softly, eyes closed as he just basked in the moment, soaking up every sweet second. Though the longer he thought about it and the more real the moment became, the fact they were to be parted- probably for good- made a hard lump form in Dorian's throat. He squeezed his eyes shut against any tears trying to form, not wanting to ruin the moment. "This was more than I could have ever dreamed, Fenris. And I would steal you away from all of this if I could. If I even had the power to get myself away from this." he murmured, eyes opening to look at the other.

He jumped when someone banged on the door, sitting up suddenly and staying between Fenris and the door to sort of protect him. Protect as best as he could without his staff and completely starkers.

"Whether you are done or not, your time is up. Dress yourselves." Danarius called through the door, stalking away to let Halward know they were readying themselves to leave.

Dorian shook his head, looking at the other before slipping out of the bed to gather their clothes. Though he had been gentle, he still helped Fenris dress, hands brushing his skin every chance they got. "I’ll never forget you. One day… One day I'll find you. When I've gotten myself free from my father. I'll find you and free you. A man like you doesn't deserve to be shackled. You deserve to be free to do as you please. I swear I'll find you." he promised, pulling the lithe elf in for one last kiss. "Don't forget me."

*

Fenris could barely articulate the rush of emotions he was feeling, the fear that coiled in is gut like a viper, and the longing that made him whine into the kiss, and hold on all the more tightly.  
"Never," he murmured, eyes large and hopeful. " _Never_." He would wait for him. He would see him again, even if he had to free himself to do it.


	3. Cruel Mistress

Dorian couldn't believe his eyes. He'd almost dropped the glass of wine in his hands when he saw that unmistakable mop of pure white hair and those moss green eyes. His hair was longer, and he seemed more confident than the first and last time he'd seen him, but there was no mistake about it. He knew that elf. The curve of that ear, the smile that could form on those lips, those eyes- still wide and expressive as then.

Fenris.

His world tilted on its axis and suddenly Dorian couldn't breathe properly. He'd searched for him. When he'd gotten away from his father. Had found out that Danarius had left. With Fenris. And they hadn't seen either of them since. His estate had even been auctioned off they'd been gone so long.

But here he was. And Dorian couldn't get to him fast enough. He tried not to make a scene though. And when he could touch the other he pulled him to his chest, holding tightly. He couldn't speak, his throat was too tight. He was panting, close to hyperventilating. He could barely see, eyes watering. And he was only standing by the grace of some deity or another- having lost his faith after losing Fenris really.

He pulled away suddenly, looking over the elf before suddenly coming to his senses. "Sorry, I... I've forgotten myself... I can't believe it's you... I looked... But you were gone.... I can't... Is it really you, Fenris?" he babbled a little, resisting the urge to pull at his hair or pinch himself. He didn't want to wake up if this were a dream again.

The man glaring at him with magic swirling around his tightly clenched fists was a new addition. And the reason Dorian knew this was real. "And how do you know Fenris? Why were you looking for him?"

"I... we... A long time ago we met. Not under the most ideal of circumstances but unforgettable nonetheless." he stated not wanting to give anything away to the other mage.

He blinked. Fenris was with another man. Another Mage. And appeared to be free. His heart sank. Oh…

*

Fenris stared at him, his body as tense and taut as a bowstring. Dark hair, dark eyes, and a smile that lit up the very hall by its own power alone. The heady, warm scent that was so distinctly _him_ filled the elf's senses such that it was almost _overwhelming_.

That smile that tugged at something deep within him, hidden away after so many long years....  
Who _was_ this man, to act so boldly -and around _him_ , no less! Fear gripped him, then, and he acted purely on instinct: in an instant, Fenris' eyes glowed and the lyrium branded into his skin flared to life as he pressed his hand against this strange mage's chest-

It was good that Hawke spoke up when he did, for Fenris had come dangerously close to pushing his incorporeal fist right through the man's chest and tearing out his still-beating heart.  
The man knew his name. And, deep down, _he_ knew this man's, too.  
"....Dorian?" he murmured, eyes wide as if coming out of a daze. He shivered, chilled by the sudden, palpable lack of warmth now that Dorian had pulled away. The former slave frowned at the mage - _magister_ \- and arched an eyebrow quizzically. "What are you doing here?"

*

Hawke stepped closer to Fenris, an arm going around his waist possessively. "You know him, Fenris?" He asked softly, eying Dorian as the other mage stepped back, clearly recognizing that Fenris was spoken for. He almost preened at the way Dorians posture fell apart. 

Dorian looked for the Inquisitor, gesturing his way. "I'm with the Inquisition. Joined up after Redcliff not too terribly long ago... what... what brings you here?" He asked, eyes looking from Fenris to the other. "And who's your... friend?" He asked, arms crossing in front of himself as a sort of shield, as if it could actually protect him from what was in front of his face.

"Hawke. I'm his Partner." He stated plainly, eyes narrowing at Dorian a little. Which just made him look away, desperate to escape. "Right... I'll... I'll leave you to your enjoyment. I should go." He turned, straightening his back and turning, starting his way through the crowd. Not how he imagined his reunion with Fenris going...

*

Fenris stared after Dorian, watching the mage slip back into the crowd as suddenly as he'd come. He could feel Hawke's eyes on him, curious and questioning, and he sighed. "It's-....a complicated story," he said and glanced at Hawke with a pained smile. "I.. met him years ago, when I-...when I was still a slave."  
His eyes flicked to where Dorian had fled, searching for him in the crush of people - but the mage was nowhere to be found.

*

Hawke furrowed his brows, looking over the crowd of people to see if he could spot this 'Dorian'. "I don't know. Doesn't seem so complicated. He's a magister- based on his complexion and the fact that he knew you while you were a slave- he was comfortable enough in touching you like he did without hesitation after not seeing you for so long, and seemed upset that we were together. Did he... While you were a slave? I'm surprised you didn't kill him. I would have." he stated a little darkly, glaring at the crowd a little.

"I know there's probably more but this isn't the place. But if that's not the case then let me be a little... Jealous. And protective. I never get a chance to do that. Because I don't _have_ to worry about you in battle because I know you're entirely capable of handling yourself- though I do anyway. But you've never had someone from your past, aside from Danarius, come for you. And I want to feel useful... And because I'm a man in love I'm going to feel a bit possessive and jealous." he stated with a shrug, sipping his wine before taking Fenris's hand in his own.

"Do you want to talk about it in the garden? Or when we get back to Skyhold? Because I'm not gonna just let this one go. Past lover? I want to know what happened."

*

Fenris felt his face heat with embarrassment, even as the man jested. Hawke was entirely _too_ perceptive - even after so many years. He should have been used to it by now… but it never failed to surprise him. "You know there is little I can ever refuse you..." said the elf with a smile that softened his face.  
He had been so certain in his emotions for these past long years, content with Hawke in so many ways - yet he had never quite shaken the memories of the dark-haired young mage who brightened his dreams in his darkest moments, and gave him hope when he'd thought all had been lost. He'd not forgotten him, not since that night in Kirkwall when he and Hawke had spent their first time in bed together and all of his memories had come back in a rush.

And now that Dorian was once again in his life, the elf wasn't sure _what_ to feel.  
"...the garden, yes..." he said absently. "This matter is too… _private_ to talk of in such a crowded place." Let alone, any place where _Varric_ could hear. He would have preferred the quiet of the rooms they had been granted back at the keep, but deep down Fenris _knew_ he wouldn't be able to still his tongue over it for much longer.  
One thing was certain: he would need something stronger than a sip of wine to get through this.

*

Hawke, ever perceptive, snagged a couple of bottles of wine from the drink table as they stepped out into one of the lavish hanging gardens. The only people here were couples- and the occasional trio- that were absorbed in themselves, and drunkards being loud at the entrance. Hawke led the two of them towards the back, casting a blanket of warmth over them when they settled into an alcove with a bench. It was getting chilly after all. "Alright. Do you want to have me ask questions and you answer? Or do you want to tell me and save any unanswered questions until after?" He asked, popping the cork of one of the bottles.

The mage offered it to the other before he had to ask a burning question. "Why didn’t you kill him if he'd slept with you while you were a slave? You couldn't say no! Why would he... and in public! The man has some audacity." He growled, taking a large swig when the bottle was handed back.

*

"Kill him?" Strangely, the elf nearly balked. "He didn't-...it-.." Fenris licked his lips, tasting the sweetness of the wine that lingered there as it burned his throat. He swallowed, exhaling a sigh. 

"..it wasn't like that, exactly. And it wasn't-" Fenris' lip curled. ".. _in public_. He had as much freedom as I had at the time. He had been pushed into a position he couldn't refuse, and I-..." He snorted. "I knew what Danarius would have done had I even so much as tried to rebel at the time, even with my mind a blank slate as it was." He laughed bitterly and passed his fingers through his hair, taking in the warmth of the spell that Hawke had cast. "Dorian's father had gotten into an arrangement with Danarius over how to best... _handle_ Dorian, you see. Having a sexual and romantic interest in your own sex is not a trait looked kindly upon in Tevinter - especially not among the old houses, as I understand. He wanted to-..." 

Fenris took the bottle when it was passed back and took a large swig, as though steeling his nerves. " _Change_ him. Make him acceptable. A misguided attempt, of course.. And Danarius offered me as an... _aid_. He thought that Dorian would be able to.. _fuck_ it out of himself, to put it bluntly."

*

Hawke snorted, leaning back and shaking his head. "There’s still no excuse. Unless he was being forced to through blood magic or had the threat of blood magic he had every opportunity to say no. You didn’t have a choice either way." He grit his teeth, gripping the bottle tightly. Little did he know that Dorian had finally fled after finding out his father was _indeed_ planning on using blood magic to control his son. Not even Fenris knew that. Nor did either of them know that Dorian was currently trying valiantly to drown himself in wine and something that Varric said was strong enough to knock him on his ass with just a whiff.

Hawke slumps a bit, looking at his hands. "I’m surprised... knowing how you are with people from your past like that..." He shrugged. "Does he... Are you... I don’t have to worry, right? That he's going to try to take you away. Physically. And emotionally..." He blushed, looking away before practically finishing the bottle and then opening the new one. "I love you. And I'd do anything to keep you safe, Fenris."

*

"I know..." Fenris murmured, a small, soft smile playing at his lips - the one that he reserved only for Hawke - as he plucked the bottle right from the mage's hands and took another long swig. When he drew the bottle away, his voice grew soft. "You've… changed my life so much, Hawke, I-...I can't imagine being in it alone." Yes, he loved him, as well. Did not his actions say as much, in staying with him through their many trials, and through those years on the run?  
And yet...Fenris could not bring himself to utter those same words in return, as the beginnings of doubt had begun to resurface in his gut. Doubt that he had thought had been long since dealt with. 

_Did_ Hawke have to worry? His head said no. Of course not! But his _heart_...that was another matter, entirely.  
"That was in the past. You've taught me to move on."

*

Hawke smiled, reaching over and taking Fenris's free hand and squeezing gently. "I'm glad that you've let me in your life. I know you hate mages. And you hated me when we first met. But I wouldn't have you any other way. Prickly broodiness and all." he teased, leaning over and giving Fenris a soft kiss.

"You can tell me what you want. What you're comfortable with. I won't ask any questions till you're done. If I have any." he stated softly, looking up at Fenris earnestly.

*

The elf arched one snow-white eyebrow at him. "I'm not _that_ prickly..." Fenris said, Hawke's teasing enough to draw a gentle chuckle out of the normally quiet warrior. "I'll tell you whatever you wish to know, as always." he paused. " _Within_ reason."  
Hawke's touch was enough to relax him considerably (helped along, of course, by the wine). And yet, he couldn't help but wonder where Dorian had got off to, and what he was now currently doing... "Now...What did you want to know that I haven't already told you?"

*

Hawke steeled himself, sitting up and taking a long draught from the bottle. "How.. did he... was he good to you? If he indeed had as little say as you... was he at least kind? Or do I have to rip his throat out myself for... for..." He couldn't bring himself to say the word rape. Or at least rape in regards to Fenris.

The mage looked over at the elf, half of him hoping that Fenris had been shown gentleness at least once before. The other half secretly hoping he'd been the one to open Fenris's eyes to pleasure. Jealousy surged through him unbidden, eyes darting towards the party before he sighed. "I'm sorry, Fenris. I don’t know why I'm reacting this way. I shouldn't be jealous of him..." His words slurred just a little, eyes glossy for a moment. "It's just... the way he looked at you. Like a man lost in the desert finding water..." He mumbled, shaking his head.

*

"Mm...you're _drunk_ ," said Fenris plainly, and he laughed as he brought the bottle to his lips again, swaying slightly as he drank. Alright, so maybe Hawke _wasn't_ the only one beginning to feel the effects of the wine. It was a pretty strong vintage, after all. "And getting drunker. Or I am." He shrugged. "Perhaps we both are. Regardless..." he took yet another swig, this one longer than the last, a soothing draught on his throat, and closed his eyes. "...yes, he was. He was very good. Gentle. _Kind_. Concerned more with _me_ than himself, if that's any clue..."  
The elf smiled wryly over the lip of the bottle and took another drink before passing it back. "I would be lying if I said he was my first, but-.." Fenris shuddered at the memory of Danarius' hands upon him, a wretched thought that still lingered in his mind like a damned spirit. "...he was the first that-... _mattered_."  
It wasn't that he _meant_ to inflame Hawke's jealousy, but he had promised himself to be honest. And, really, what reason had he to lie?

*

Hawke paused, bottle inches from his lips, just for a moment at Fenris's admission. Dorian had mattered. Did that mean he mattered now? Was he a fond memory he called upon when he needed one? If Dorian asked would Fenris follow him? The Champion shook his head against that, knowing the Fenris would stay with him. He needed more wine. Once he had the last he was going to drink he handed the bottle over. "Fenris... I-"

"Broody! Hawke! There you are. I was wondering where you two lovebirds had gotten off to." Varric chuckled, looking over the empty bottles. "Mm, seems like the two of you should get in the boat with our Magister friend. He's currently using the bar as support. Was I interrupting something?" he asked, clearly aware that he was. But giving the pretense of appropriate concern. 

He knew something had happened between Broody and Dorian. The mage was muttering to himself about having tried harder to find him.

"I've lost him, Mahanon. I should have... I tried so hard... But I had... And now he's..." he gestured wildly in direction of the party. The Inquisitor and Bull were sharing the ale Varric had coughed up. Well, Bull was sharing. The Inquisitor had to remain sober and alert. Dorian wasn't required for the fights. They'd changed tactics when Dorian had found the Inquisitor and spilled everything. He and Mahanon had gotten close as friends- who sometimes fooled around but nothing serious. They knew nothing would come from it. 

Dorian- upon seeing his friend, now knew why he'd fallen in with him so easily. He'd been so... He didn't even know... But Mahanon looked similar to Fenris. And only upon seeing the real thing did Dorian realize that he'd tried to replace the elf. And looking back every time he'd fooled around with another, they'd had light hair and green eyes. None looked so much like Fenris than Mahanon. With platinum hair and green eyes with Elvehn heritage.

*

That struck Fenris' guilt even more, making that nagging fear of _doubt_ grow all the more strong. Dorian. _Drinking_. Oh, how he wanted to lob the bottle right at Varric's head..  
Not that he wasn't any stranger to a bottle, of course...but the more he thought about it, the more Fenris felt the need to talk to Dorian. At the very least, to _ask_ him where he'd been these past long years. And he needed to do it _away_ from Hawke; Maker bless him, but the mage could get possessive when he set his mind to it.  
"I'm going to get some more wine," said the elf -though the last bottle was a fourth full- and slipped out through the gardens, leaving Hawke and Varric alone.  
Mahanon hummed in agreement over his mug as he carefully nursed his first dram. "Gone?" the Inquisitor finished, brushing a lock of pale hair from one eye. "..could always talk to him?" he suggested easily. "Better than just drinking 'till you can't see straight."

*

Dorian snorted, looking up at Mahanon over the rim of his mug. "To put it so eloquently and politely with the sanctity of my broken heart in mind, yes. He's gone. I don't know if he even remembers me... I think he said my name but I can't be sure. It was all over very quickly. But enough to find out he's with Hawke. He's... very pretty, did you notice, 'Non? His beard and moustache are better than my own, sadly. And Maker is he built. And I thought I was built for a mage. Hawke takes the cake." he rambled, glaring down at his mug as if it had greatly offended him.

"I can’t talk to him... And especially not here. If he does remember me then I only serve as a painful reminder of a terrible past. No matter how sweet our time had been. I'm nothing but a reminder of a terrible time in his life and of the things he'd been told to do. I wouldn't want to speak to me either." Dorian breathed softly, truly miserable.

"I'm certain that you're wrong, Vint. Even if it weren't pleasant I'd still want closure, at least." Bull added, patting the defeated mages back.

*

"'Bull's right. You're not doing yourself any favors thinking like that. You _can_ talk to him...just...a matter of who's gonna make the first move. I'm sure he's... _reasonable enough_."  
Almost as if his words had summoned him, the elf in question wandered in just then from the garden outside, looking glassy-eyed, and ruddy-cheeked, with a now-empty bottle still held in one hand. Upon realizing who apparently shared the room with him, Fenris froze, green eyes fixed on Mahanon.. and Dorian at his side.

"... _ah_." Mahanon felt his cheeks burn to be pinned beneath that gaze, seeing the confusion and hurt swimming beneath the haze of alcohol. He pursed his lips and rose rather abruptly from the table with his ale in hand. "Come on, Bull, let's go see if Varric's still up for that game of Wicked Grace he was trying to talk those nobles into, earlier..." he said, making an attempt to give them some time alone...

*

Dorian looked up, eyes locking on Fenris and completely losing sight and hearing to anything but the other elf. He rose unsteadily, downing his mug before setting it on the bar counter. It was like seeing him all over again at Danarius's party. Though more gorgeous and wild than he had been when he'd last seen him, Dorian was just as taken with him today as he had been the night they'd met and parted.

The Mage snapped out of his daze, walking over to the other. His eyes darted around, waiting for the large mage to pop out of nowhere and demand he never speak to Fenris again. "I... I wasn't expecting you to be here... How... We should go somewhere less crowded, yes?"

He fidgeted, waiting for Fenris to okay the suggestion before he started walking deeper into the palace. As the crowds thinned out he began speaking. "So... You've grown your hair out. It's quite fetching. Suits you better if I may say..." he blurted, biting his lip before stepping out onto a small private balcony.

"How long? How long have you been free?"

*

"Some years, now," Fenris said guardedly - a habit formed from having had to hide himself for so long on the run, dodging slavers at every turn, always fearing that someone would find him and return him right back into Danarius' hands. He had never again formed attachments, never let himself get _close_...until Kirkwall. Until he met Hawke, who...reminded him so much of Dorian with his brightness and his wit -and yet, who was a different person all to himself. It was Hawke who helped him when he'd thought Dorian gone and lost forever. "Danarius is dead."  
A cold simple fact. He would have done it again in a heartbeat if he'd had the chance. 

"And you? You're....here. No father around, I gather. Finally got free of your _own_ chains, then?"  
Fenris sighed, shifting under the weight of the oppressive tension that had begun forming between them in the cool night air.

"I looked for you, you know..." he went on. Slowly, the walls that had been weakened by years at Hawke's side, and loosened even more by drink began to crumble. "After-...when I escaped, I looked for you as often as I could, but we'd left Minrathous by then, and I had no idea if you _wanted_ to see me again. You-...never came back."

*

Dorian smiled, and laughed. He couldn't help it. "Fucking serves him right! Please tell me that you had the honour of doing him in." he smiled, looking over at Fenris before looking down at his own hands as he leaned on the railing. He felt himself pause with the returned question, face darkening a little as he thought about his father.

"I am. He... I found out he was planning on using blood magic to control me to do as he wanted me to. Even after that night he wasn't satisfied. And when I found out I took everything with me that I could- things that I could sell really- and left. I... I tried to find you, as well. But by the time I was able to, once I'd left my father’s house, Danarius had already left with you. And there weren't any instructions left behind with servants or anything. Just that you were gone. I hated myself that I couldn't keep my promise to you. That I couldn't save you from him..."

A short hollow laugh left him. "Guess someone else helped you do that, though." he grimaced. He hated that Hawke had swooped in and stolen Fenris from him. If in spirit anyway. He'd always hoped that he'd find Fenris again. And they'd begin a life together. As silly as it sounds. "I heard about what was happening in Kirkwall. And if there had been any mention of someone even _looking_ like you involved, I would have been there in an instant. Your... Partners exploits in saving people are quite well known now." he said a little bitterly. "You've moved on from your past... I suppose it's for the best then. I would want to _forget_ as well."

*

Emotions swept through Fenris as Dorian spoke - fear, disgust, worry...and then relief. Dorian had made it unscathed. He ought to have hugged him long before. To kiss him until their chests ached with the need to breathe. 

And yet, he bristled when he opened his mouth again. “Forget?” He echoed, disbelieving. “I-...how--...” Fenris’ little smile changed to a frown. “I never forgot you...” He spat defensively, offended that he would even think that. “Hawke wasn’t the one who inspired me to leave; who showed me that there was a life to be had outside of those walls!” He was angry - angry at himself for being unable to find him, angry at him for not trying hard enough... and confused for how suddenly they had found themselves thrust back into each other’s lives.

*

Dorian scoffed a little, straightening up. "Right. I joined the Inquisition because I knew who Varric is. I hoped it would lead me to you. And when beyond all hope and possibly I finally do find you, you've already replaced me. And don’t bring Mahanon into this. We aren’t together. We're friends that sometimes alieve the loneliness. He knows my heart can’t be his and he can't afford to give his away." He replied quickly, looking away from the other.

"But I get it. While, yes, I _inspired_ you to leave; Hawke did something for you I apparently never could. Help you kill Danarius. At least that's what I’m assuming. As long as he treats you right, how can I truly complain? You're happy and have started a new life. That's all I wanted for you." He rubbed his face, needing to hide for just a second. "Why? Why after all this time do I find you again, only to find I cannot have you?"

*

Fenris narrowed his eyes. "Hawke didn't _help_ me kill him." he said indignantly. "I crushed his skull all on my own. It was _my_ fault I even wound up running into him again in the first place." His voice caught in his throat at the thought of Varania -of her _betrayal_ , which even now cut him deeply. Another scar to add to his ever-growing collection. While, true, he had been hunting his old Master, he hadn't expected to be lured into a _trap_. But, looking back, it had been painfully obvious, and he too blind to see.  
The elf sighed, trying to keep himself in check, to quell the trembling in his shoulders. 

"He helped the pain, yes, but I-...." he clenched his hands into fists as he faltered, more memories rushing to the fore - more than he'd allowed himself to see in so long. ”I thought you were _gone_." That first night in Hawke's estate, memories of Dorian, and even his life before, of his childhood, struck him full-force as they had that night so long ago, and he squeezed his eyes shut. "...I left him for three years, you know. After we-...were _together_ , I remembered. I...I saw _you_. I tried to find you then, but Kirkwall was such a bloody mess...”  
He frowned at Dorian's next question, and growled. "You could have… _had_ me at any time. But you were halfway across the _fucking_ world, weren't you?"

*

Dorian turned on Fenris, watching the other. "So you _did_ forget. And while I was halfway across the fucking world I was trying to find _you_! As crazy as it seems, that one night together... I swear I fell for you the second I laid eyes on you. I still know close to nothing about you but I'd never felt about another person the way I felt... _feel_... about you."

He suddenly moved closer to the elf, gripping his upper arms tightly. "I tried to move on once. To find someone else to give my heart to that wasn't from a dream. But I swear, my very soul started to wither when I even contemplated the idea. So I never did. I never let anyone else close. If they were close at all it was merely so I wasn't alone the entire time I was away from you. I would have you here and now if I thought I could. If I thought it would change your mind about staying with Hawke. But I know it wouldn't. That it would only cause so much trouble. But Hawke has your heart and I have to respect that. No matter how much pain it brings my own." he finished in an almost whisper, voice cracking a little and eyes wet.

*

At the mere touch of Dorian's hands, Fenris stiffened, caught between pulling away and pressing himself up against that warm, firm body. He stared up at him, almost glaring, and snarled. "The _only reason_ I went with Hawke in the first place is because he reminded me of _you_!"  
He froze just inches from the mage's face, eyes wide as he realized what had just come out of his mouth. It was as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders at long last. That, then, was the truth - the answer to the riddle of _why Hawke_ , for all of these years. It was Dorian all along! Even when he hadn't remembered.

*

Dorian froze the same as Fenris, eyes wide with the confession. His breathing stopped for a second or two as well before he burst into motion, fisting the long hair and crushing his mouth against the elf’s, devouring him. This would be all he could ever get from Fenris again. Everything he had felt, the emotion from the past years of longing and desire and need pouring into the kiss.

He didn't know when he'd pushed Fenris up against the wall but he only noticed when he'd picked the white haired beauty up and was already pressing him against the cool stone. He was desperate. Desperate to feel Fenris, to never forget how it felt to hold him, taste him, feel him against his very soul. The memories of such had faded but never left. Dorian didn’t realize he was crying until he pulled away, chest shuddering. "My heart has been and always will be yours." He whispered, cupping Fenris's cheek and smiling a little.

*

Fenris' arms slid around Dorian's shoulders easily, settling there as naturally as though he had been made for it, holding him close, as though he feared never to see him again if they were to part. He didn't think his heart could bear it a second time. That, of all things, would truly break him, body and soul.

He groaned against those lips, low and desperate and _longing_ after so many years apart, and shivered at the press of the stone against his back. Fenris felt that and upon his cheek, and leaned freely into Dorian's warmth, as he had ached to do for so very long. "As mine has always belonged to you..." he murmured, meeting his eyes. "Nothing could ever change that."

*

Dorian smiled a little sadly, knowing this couldn't last but holding onto the moment like a life line. The mage leaned in, kissing Fenris again- although much gentler than the last. It was slow and sweet and achingly loving. He hated that this was all he'd be able to have ever again.

"There will be stories written about this. Odes to the tragic love story of a former slave and a runaway, who both fled their home country to be together. Only to be separated by time and a challenger for the beautiful elf’s love." he chuckled softly, looking over Fenris's face, trying to memorize every new detail. Who knew when he'd be able to see him this close again- or this openly.

"We... we should return to the party..." he murmured, unable to follow his own suggestion before he was drinking his fill of the elf again, pressing him more firmly against the wall.

*

"Mm... mind you don't let Varric overhear - he'll be the first to put pen to paper," Fenris breathed, a quiet chuckle on his lips that was quickly silenced by Dorian's kiss. He only held the mage even closer to him, breathing him in and digging his fingers into his cloak, as if to hold him there through his will alone.  
He would much rather be _here_ , with Dorian, than chatting it up inside -or even with Hawke. For all that he loved him (and _did_ he, really?....it was a question that came to him more and more often now, with no small twinge of guilt...), he knew he wouldn't be able to stand more of his questions tonight. No, this was where he belonged, in Dorian's arms. With Dorian's lips on his, and his voice - and his voice alone- in his ear.  
Finally free to act, at least in that moment, Fenris pressed himself up against the mage as close as he could be, eager to feel him so close, to feel how he had changed, and how much he had stayed the same...

*

Dorian lost himself in Fenris after that, not caring about how long they'd been away or the heavy footsteps coming their way to their secluded little paradise.


	4. Until the Morrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter.

"Ahem. You know, if I didn't know any better I'd say the two of you hated one another. Look at you, attacking one another." Varric smirked, crossing his arms as Dorian jumped away from Fenris- making sure not to just drop him of course. 

"Varric! This isn't... Fenris wasn't... I..." he looked over at Fenris helplessly. He didn't want the elf to get in trouble with Hawke.

"Don’t worry about it. I understand a thing or two about romances like this. I'm a writer, remember?" he grinned widely, knowingly. "Besides. It's not my business to pry. I'm not one for gossi-" "Liar." "... Okay so maybe a little gossip. But only to people who won't spread it around. But, why are you doing this now. And _here_ of all places? Hawke could have easily come and found you as I did." he warned, giving them both stern looks.

Dorian looked down at the mention of Fenris's partner, biting his lip. "I... Do you..." he knew he shouldn't- couldn't ask actually. If Fenris wanted to go back to Hawke. He knew of Fenris's loyalty, though. He wouldn't leave a man he knew like the back of his hand that he'd been with for years for a man he'd shared one night with so long ago that he knew next to nothing about. Other than the fact he'd been training to be a magister and his father had planned to use blood magic on him. No basis for loyalty there, really. Though that didn't explain why it had been perfect to hold the elf after so long, or how they'd just fallen back into each other’s arms like that...

*

"..I should go." Fenris said, with no small amount of reluctance in his voice. Hawke would begin to worry, and then try to seek him out himself. _That_ would have been even harder to explain.   
The elf licked his lips, to taste what remained of Dorian upon them, one last time, before he turned to follow Varric, heading back in to the warmth and chatter of the party.

The glance he gave Dorian as he left spoke entirely different volumes, however. He _longed_ to stay at Dorian's side, and _would have_ , had Varric not tactfully reminded him of why he was truly here.   
_Later_ , it said. _Later_. Back at Skyhold.

Yes, they would - _should_ meet later. To talk, if nothing else.


	5. Birds Are Frustrating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner and stargazing with Hawke

Dorian couldn't help but watch Fenris any time he was in the same room, almost completely missing debriefings at times. But he'd managed to pay attention, when the elf gave him a pointed look. He couldn't really help it, though. He had his dream back. And it was real. And he wasn't going anywhere. But he also wasn’t coming to Dorian. That was a minor thing. Dorian was thankful he at least had him in eyesight. And where he could actually speak to him. Touch him on occasion. It was infinitely better than the past years of _not knowing_. And now he knew that Fenris felt the same way for him that he felt for the elf.

"You might want to calm down a bit there, Dorian." Varric had warned, Hawke had become a little upset over Dorians attention to Fenris. And was staying near more often. Not letting the elf alone with the other mage for too long.

"Fenris? Do you want to have dinner with me? Just the two of us? I mean, I enjoy hanging around everyone else but it's nice to get some alone time with you, and we haven't really had much of that lately. Not since the Winter Palace and such..." Hawke asked, adorably nervous. As if expecting rejection.

*

 

The elf blinked, coming out of the daze he'd sunk into without even realizing.  
Of course. He would miss dining with the rest of their little group, as strange as they were. He'd also come to enjoy their conversations, and the quirks of everyone -including the Inquisitor himself, though at times Fenris swore it was almost like looking into a mirror. The games of Diamondback and Wicked Grace were something he had also missed, and not just thanks to the stolen moments they granted him with Dorian. 

He hadn't seen the Tevinter mage all day, save for a glimpse at breakfast. Fenris had been planning to pay him a visit that evening, to finally have that talk he'd promised at the Winter Palace...it had been torturous, being so close, and yet so very far...  
..And yet, he _couldn't_ deny Hawke this. "Of course," he smiled,, though his brow furrowed at Hawke's nervousness. He'd never known the man to be so nervous, and that worried him... had he noticed Dorian's continued interest? Or...his _own_ distance?

Gently, Fenris reached out and laid a hand upon the mage's own, to reassure him as much as the elf himself. "You're right - we _haven't_ had a moment alone since that night.. I would like nothing better."

*

Hawke smiled widely, shoulders relaxing as he pulled Fenris closer, kissing him softly. "Good. Thanks. I have dinner picked out. I know it's great to be around a weird group of people. But I miss you." he chuckled.

"Silly, I know. We're together practically all the time. Come on, let's pick a bottle of wine to go with dinner, hmm?" he asked, offering his arm in an over dramatic gentlemanly gesture. "I asked the cooks to make duck since we don’t have too many chickens." He explained as they reached the cellar to pick the wine. "The Inquisitor said we can have any bottle we choose." Hawke glanced over the bottles. "I admit  
I've no idea what makes a good wine. Ferelden, remember?" he chuckled, grabbing one that didn't look too dusty. "What about this one? Just a few years old. So it should still be sweet, yeah?"

When they reached their room, there was a small table set up with a single candle and rose in the center, covered plates and a carafe of water set up nicely. "Well, what do you think?" he asked, popping the cork on the wine and setting it down to let it breathe for a moment.

*

Fenris blinked at the display set before them. "Well, it's-..." Strange; he'd never took Hawke to be one inclined to overly-romantic gestures. Yet, in its own way, it was sweet, for Hawke's intentions were clear. Perhaps...too clear. "..It’s very nice," he said, rather stilted as the words lingered on his tongue.

"Feeling flowery tonight, are we?" he teased gently, taking the bottle from him.

A lot of work had gone into this, he knew, and it touched him in a way he hadn't quite expected. The elf smiled at him again, and brought the bottle to his lips, tasting it, and gave a hum of approval; sweet and fruity, and nowhere near as strong as the wines he favored. This was definitely Orlesian. He took another drink, before he set the bottle down on the table and sat at one of the set places as he gave Hawke another smile, this one almost shy, itself. "What's brought all of this on, hm?"

*

Hawke smiled again, shrugging. "Nothing really brought it on. I just wanted to spend some time alone. While we were travelling together before Varric contacted me, we always had time to ourselves. And while having a proper roof over our heads and a nice bed is amazing, I do rather miss being huddled together for warmth in a tent. Not the being cold part or sleeping on the ground. Just holding you." He said softly, pouring the wine and sliding the glass to Fenris before taking his own seat.

Of course it went unsaid that he felt he was losing Fenris a little, but he knew he'd never stray. "I admit I was also hoping to rekindle us again since we haven't had time for anything private." He said with a smile and light blush.

*

Fenris thought of all of the time he'd spent thinking on Dorian of late-even when at Hawke's side- and ducked his head nervously... He reached for his glass, hoping that it would be taken as bashfulness, rather than guilt. "Yes...” he said, half into his glass.

If he were truly honest with himself in that moment, _rekindling_ them didn't... _appeal_ to him as much as it once might have. And he knew exactly why. And that hurt him a little, to think that so many years with Hawke could be so easily replaced... "Were you, now? Mm... and how would you do that? You already done more than anyone could ever ask."

And that, then, was why he felt so _guilty_.

*

Hawke smiled and nodded. "Mmhmm. I planned on wining and dining you and then a stroll through the gardens before seducing you with my tongue and fingers." He stated softly. "Of course if you're up for it. I understand that we're still settling a bit." He said softly, watching Fenris a little hopefully.

He tried not to believe that Fenris was distancing himself. That maybe he was having trouble being around someone from his past. Being around someone that had used him when he was a slave was becoming too much. He knew Fenris could take care of himself. But if anything happened, then there would be pieces of a certain Tevinter Magisterial all over the main hall.

Hawke smiled and nodded. "Mmhmm. I planned on wining and dining you and then a stroll through the gardens before seducing you with my tongue and fingers." He stated softly. "Of course if you're up for it. I understand that we're still settling a bit." He said softly, watching Fenris a little hopefully.

He tried not to believe that Fenris was distancing himself. That maybe he was having trouble being around someone from his past. Being around someone that had used him when he was a slave was becoming too much. He knew Fenris could take care bbc.co of himself. But if anything happened then there would be pieces of a certain Tevinter Magisterial all over the main hall.

*

"Well, sounds like quite a plan…" said the elf a little teasingly. Though, he wouldn't object to dinner, the rest of Hawke's little plan gave him pause, though he tried to hide it behind a smile. "Speaking of...how have you been settling? It feels good to see Varric again, no? And this castle...it's a little bit like your old estate... large enough, anyways..."

Even as he spoke, the words felt forced. Stale. As though he were making conversation - and he had never been really good at that, come to think of it. But, at least the wine was good, and there was plenty of it. That would help a great deal.

*

Hawke chuckled and shook his head. "Not quite. This is much larger than the home in Kirkwall." he smiled, uncovering his plate then Fenris's. "Eat up, I can heat it up if it cools but only so many times before it gets tough to eat." he smiled, reaching over the small table to take Fenris's hand and squeeze it gently.

"I've been settling in alright. It was my life’s trade, remember?" he grinned wryly. "But, hopefully we'll be able to stay a while before they kick us out. Or at least until everything blows over with the Wardens and Corypheus." Hawke shrugged, though he didn't really want to stay too long. Despite being with Varric again. And a random group of people that reminded so much of the band they'd had in Kirkwall. But he couldn't shake the feeling that he was losing Fenris. And keeping him by his side was more important than camaraderie. Dessert is something you'll definitely like."

*

The elf tucked into his meal with more eagerness than he felt, if only to give Hawke a bit more hope. And it _did_ taste good. Better than anything they'd yet had on the road - even at that inn in Redcliffe. His lips quirked into a soft smile at Hawke's touch, and he allowed him to hold his hand, even squeezing it gently in return. 

"Oh?" He couldn't help but smile at that. Hawke could hardly ever fail to bring a smile to his face, even when he had so much going on inside his mind...even now. Even now when his uncertainty was greatest. "And will you indulge my curiosity? Or do I just have to wait and see?"

*

 

Hawke grinned brightly, looking down at his food to hide his face and now smirk. "Yeah. You'll like it. I'm not gonna tell you what it is. It's one of your favourites." Which wasn't saying much. Since being with Fenris, Hawke had introduced the elf to so many different treats. Of course none of them were from Tevinter but it was what Hawke could make and find.

Dorian would know so many more treats since Tevinters were all about luxury and decadence. And Dorian had quite the sweet tooth.

"I do have a little something set up in the Gardens when we're done eating. But I'm not in any rush."

*

Fenris could _feel_ his smile about to waver, so he quickly took another bite of food and swallowed, chasing it down with a bit of wine. "I can't wait." And, indeed, he was curious, if nothing else, to see what Hawke had planned. What he'd likely spent _time_ thinking up, and all for him...

"Is that where you've been all day, then? I thought for certain you'd be with Varric, or having another talk with the Inquisitor..."

Another bite of food. More attempts at small-talk, just to pass the time...

*

"Hmm? No. I meet with the Inquisitor tomorrow. Unfortunately it'll be an all-day thing. Varric will be popping in and out I think." he stated between bites, finishing his meal after a few moments. "I think you'd get along with Iron Bull. He's a snarky Qunari that doesn't see the Qun the same as the rest of his kind. I think you'd have a bit in common. He's also expressed interest in seeing you spar with him."

He sat back, watching Fenris eat before standing and gathering everything in the nearby bin so it could be collected by cleaning staff. He grabbed the bottle and offered his hand. "Shall we?" he asked, taking the elf’s hand in his and kissing the back of it before leading him towards the gardens.

"I had... Someone find me a map of the sky. The constellations so I could show you." Dorian. Dorian had diligently searched for an accurate map because he thought it was needed for a mission- or research or one pertaining to Corypheus and when he'd likely strike. The story Hawke told him.

"It has the Dread Wolf on it which means it's the right time of the year to see it."

*

At the mention of Hawke's schedule - that he would be _busy_! - Fenris felt his heart give a leap. _Freedom_ , for a time. (And, oh, there was the guilt again - he knew he ought to be happy in the moment, here, now, _with Hawke_ \- but it just felt... _wrong_.)

Yet, he could not hide his honest curiosity at the map. "See..?" he echoed, peering at the star chart with wonder. "See what?" Fenris had faint memories of watching the stars night after night as he drifted off to sleep, keeping him company and guiding his path - but he had never quite understood them, not like a learned man.

*

Hawke smiled, leading Fenris to a blanket he'd laid out on one of the clear hills. "There are things to be seen. Kind of like a game. A connect the dot game, so to speak. Here." he sat down and lounged back, map on his lap- that had clearly come from Dorian's little nook because it was written in Tevine and had the translations written underneath everything in Dorians small scrawl.

"Here, see? Those large stars there? Connect them this way here and you've got the Dread Wolf." he smiled, pointing out the right stars in the sky and referencing the map. "And here is the great boar."

*

As he settled beside him on the grass, Fenris was _certain_ he glimpsed writing that could only be Tevene, though he'd only picked up one book on the Imperium and its conquests in the entire time they had been away from Kirkwall. What little he remembered, though, stuck with him, and he realized in that moment just _who_ that map belonged to.

 

It took all of his will to draw himself away from the map itself and look up at the stars that twinkled brightly overhead. (He wondered if Dorian had ever laid out like this and gazed up at the sky as they now did...)

"Oh..." breathed Fenris as he laid back, one hand behind his head and resting the other upon his chest. "Yes, I-..I think I see..." He'd seen those stars before, many times... but he hadn't known that they formed any shapes. The elf squinted at the glittering gems that studded the night sky, and, once more, smiled. "...that one there looks like a sword..."

*

Hawke smiled and looked down at the map, then back up at the sky. "Might be the Sword of Andraste. Like this?" he asked, showing Fenris the map and pointing to one of the constellations. "Which one is it up there?" he asked, looking up.

From his tower- like a princess- Dorian was able to see the two on their hill. Well, he saw two people on a small hill in the gardens and one of them glowed a little because the light reflected off of the Lyrium brands. And Maker, how had Dorian not seen how the elf glowed like that? Oh, right. The study was securely in the center of the manor. No chance for escape. Dorian sighed, leaning against the window sill and just watching the two. He wondered if Hawke was aware of how he and Fenris felt for one another. Or if he was suspicious at all. 

"And this one... Is apparently the fertility goddess? Paragon? Not sure who this map was made for but it seems to have a lot of different religions as part of it. But this one says it's a fertility goddess... We'd have to ask one of the historians," Or Dorian, since he's the one that made the full map, "the history behind it."

*

"Indeed," Fenris agreed, tearing his eyes away from the sky to have another look at the map. Another look at Dorian's handwriting, which was finer than anything he'd ever seen. Another look at the drawings so painstakingly sketched, likely by looking at the very same sky Maker knew how long ago. How long had Dorian had the map, he wondered?  
"It would be nice to know..." he added, smiling softly. ”Thank you… for showing this to me. I never knew just how... _beautiful_ the sky could be..."

*

Hawke smiled widely, looking over at Fenris and reaching up to cup his cheek. "You're beautiful in the moonlight. Have I ever told you that you glow? In the moonlight I mean." he chuckled softly, scooting closer before leaning in to give the elf a soft kiss.

"Your Lyrium sings a little when the light hits it." _Like a lullaby by mother used to sing to me_ "It's quite beautiful, actually. I didn't know Lyrium sang." he commented softly, pulling Fenris closer a little. "Are you ready for dessert?" he asked, kissing along Fenris's neck.

*

"Mmm..." Fenris sighed, fairly purring at such warm compliments that somehow seemed familiar.

 _Too familiar_.

Suddenly, Dorian's voice echoed in his head, ringing in his ears as bright and clear as though he'd just spoken. In that moment, he wasn't on a hilltop near a castle-fortress in Orlais; he was back in Minrathous, in a warm bed, and he heard Dorian's voice again, and felt how _sweet_ pleasure could truly be.

In that moment, he knew where he would rather be.

And when Hawke continued speaking, the elf's eyes flew wide and he stared at him. Such a suggestion made the knot of unease coil ever tighter in his gut - tighter even than when Danarius had offered him out to the first man who _wasn't_ Dorian, and the second... and the _third_... He tugged away gently -he didn't want to hurt Hawke...but he couldn't.

"I-..." Fenris' voice caught as he looked at Hawke laying there in the moonlight, staring up at him with hope mingling with tentative lust in his eyes - and it was just like that night all those years ago in Kirkwall. _I can't_.

He shook his head and closed his eyes. He couldn't pretend any longer... 

"...I should go."

*

Hawke bit his lip and looked away, pulling back from the other. "Sorry... I was pushing you. It's too soon after him, huh? Just... don't run away like last time and leave me for three years." He asked softly, picking at the woven fabric. "But I know you need space. I've seen that look before " he gave a self-deprecating smile. "I'll stay here. You can get the chocolate pudding in our room. Uh... by the um... bed." He'd planned on licking it from Fenris's body but, what can you do?

He watched silently as the elf left him- _again_ \- and flopped onto his back. He hoped the other was just hesitant because he was also remembering the people who _hadn't_ mattered. And not remembering Dorian and everything he'd been given in gentleness and whatever else Dorian had offered... as horrible as that sounded.


	6. Damsels in Distress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tevine wine and friend-fiction

On the other side of Skyhold, Mahanon grinned as he tucked the sheaf of papers beneath his arm and stood outside the door to Dorian’s room. He knew how quiet the mage was; especially _now_ when his lyrium-tattooed beauty was likely in the arms of another. Well, he’d have to cheer him up - it was his duty, after all, as a friend _and_ leader!

And so he stood, juggling two bottles of Tevinter wine, and a suspiciously fresh little stack of papers covered front-to-back in Varric’s messy hand. Yet, he had left himself no hand free to knock - he didn’t trust himself to not accidentally open another rift with the mark on his left, and it was dreadfully hard to hold two bottles while working a door, so, he settled for giving it a good, swift kick. 

“Are you awake in there, _lethallin_? Or am I disturbing another glorious evening of cursing yourself and staring at the wall?”

 

*

 

Dorian jumped, turning and looking at the door. He rolled his eyes and walked over to open the door, a grin on his face. Mahanon was always able to make him smile even without being in front of him. “Oh my dearest, you know I only have eyes for you.” He teased, closing the door after his friend entered, eyeing the bottles and paper. “What’s all of this? Planning on seducing me? Oh dear, I fear for my virtue!” He put his hand over his heart.

His smile dropped a little and he padded over to the window, raising a brow at the sight of only one person on the hill, a certain glowing elf missing. He couldn’t help but smile broadly. Fenris couldn’t do it. Though, Dorian really shouldn’t either but... Fenris was with Hawke. If Fenris changed his mind he would end things with Mahanon. And he knew his best friend wouldn’t hold a grudge; they both knew what the other was able to give and what they weren’t. Which was why they were able to stay such close friends.

“What has Varric written now?” He asked, taking the bottles and setting them down. He froze. Oh. _Oh_. Dorian spun around, horrified. “Oh _Maker_ , no. It’s not friend-fiction, is it?!” He rushed over, trying to reach for the papers to burn them.

 

*

 

The elf immediately danced out of Dorian’s range, laughing as he held the papers high. “Ah-ah! No, you’ll not be taking this!” he crowed, running over to the window with a smug grin and holding the papers close to his chest. “It’s for...posterity! Varric’s a magnificent writer! Besides...” Mahanon looked at Dorian from behind his hair. “Aren’t you the _least bit curious_? It’s quite good, so far...”

 

*

 

Dorian stalked closer, watching Mahanon like a predator. “Hmm, I suppose. You’re going to read it to me anyways no matter what I say.” He conceded, brushing the others hair from his face before leaning in to nip at his ear. “Surprised he hasn’t written any about us. Unless he doesn’t know. Or he does and just doesn’t want to get in trouble for writing such things about The Inquisitor.” He chuckled, stepping away to open one of the bottles. 

“How in Thedas did you manage to find Tevine wine? And this vintage, too? Do you know how much this is worth?” He asked, sniffing the aroma and groaning softly. “Oh this is going to be so smooth. You’re in for a treat.”

 

*

 

“Mmm....being Inquisitor _does_ have some perks...” Mahanon sighed, watching Dorian savor the aroma and just be happy for one moment. “That’s why I brought _two_ bottles, you know. So we can both be properly knocked on our arse. It’s more fun that way.” he winked, and crossed the room to lay his head upon Dorian’s shoulder. “You haven’t been making yourself sick with worry, have you? I might have to work harder to distract you...”

*

 

Dorian leaned into Mahanon a little, smiling softly. “A little. I don’t know what to expect with this talk Fenris wants to have or what he’s thinking. I fear whatever it is about I’m going to end up getting hurt. He won’t leave Hawke. At least not now. If at all, actually. Some strange sense of loyalty.” He teased, turning to face the other and wrap his arms around him.

“Now, enough talk about that. Not while I have you here wooing me with fine wine and what will most likely be a small novel’s worth of smut to read to me.” He chuckled, reaching down and playfully smacking Mahanon on the ass.

*

 

Mahanon snorted and grinned. “ _Such_ a gentleman!” he purred, leaning in and catching Dorian’s lips in a slow, open-mouthed kiss, sweet and fond and deep. His fingers trailed down along the mage’s side as he tugged him over towards the bed, and he worked at Dorian’s laces with curious fingers. “I’ve always wondered...” he hummed when they parted to breathe, his voice thoughtful. “Why so many straps and laces, hm? They’re terribly inconvenient...”

*

 

Dorian went into the kiss willingly, humming in contentment as he pulled Mahanon as close as possible. A laugh left him at the question, reaching down to help the other undress him. “Mm, because it frustrates you so, _amatus_. Really it’s so nothing can be taken off easily during battle.” he murmured, reaching out now to help Mahanon out of his own clothing. “Why do you wear such frustratingly tight clothes? Is it an elf thing? The only elves I’ve ever seen that don’t wear clothes that look painted on are Keepers. That’s it. Is your kind trying to seduce the world? Take over via mind numbingly good sex?”

He gently pushed Mahanon onto the bed, shedding the rest of his clothes before shamelessly walking naked to the table to grab the wine. “I wonder how this will taste licking it from your body. Shall we find out? You have a rather deep naval, Inquisitor.” he smirked, taking a swig and bringing it over to offer it to Mahanon while he settled above him. “I can’t help but notice how... _delicious_ you look lying spread out for me like a feast.” he murmured, leaning down to lick at a nipple while the other took a drink from the bottle.

 

*

 

“Why, you’ve figured out our master-plan! Sneaky devil, you are...” The elf gasped, a mingled groan and laugh bubbling from his lips as he arched, seeking Dorian’s mouth again with any part of his body that would reach it.

“Mm....you always have such wonderfully filthy ideas, _lethallin_. Have I mentioned how much I adore that?” Mahanon murmured, happily taking a long drink and sighing when he finally came up for air. “ _Creators_ , but that’s good...” he purred, and passed the bottle back with a wicked grin, idly trying to tickle the back of Dorian’s leg with his toes as he tilted his head back, baring his throat for him in order to look even _more_ enticing. “I’m all yours...”

 

*

 

Dorian descended upon Mahanon like a man starved, licking the taste of the wine from his mouth while he poured a little on his stomach- thankful they were at the foot of the large bed so they wouldn’t be lying in a puddle of sticky wine while they basked in their post-coital bliss. His head ducked down, sucking his stomach gently and licking the trails of wine from him. “Mm, you were sweet before but now more so.” He complimented, looking up at the other with a devilish grin before pouring just a little on his cock and sucking it down greedily.

“The things I’m going to do to you, _amatus_. I know how bad you can get, Inquisitor. I’ve been in your bed and you in mine for over a year now. I think the Elvehn are dirty, filthy creatures. I love it.”

 

*

 

“Such words...such sweet words from sweeter lips...” Mahanon squirmed in pleasure, mewling as his hips jerked weakly when Dorian pulled away, desperate for the wet heat of his mouth. He had become entirely too accustomed to it, and to feel its absence made him ache all the more. “Show me...” he grinned, “I’m aching for you already...show me how you’re going to take me, and leave me begging for more...” 

And then an idea struck him, and he propped himself up to watch the mage with a wicked grin of his own. “Shall we make things even more interesting?” he purred, reaching to run his fingers through Dorian’s dark locks.

 

*

 

Dorian licked his lips and looked up at the other, licking a small trail up the center of Mahanon’s body. “Oh? And... How do you... suggest we do that?” He asked between licks and sucks.

“Things are already quite interesting with you.” He teased, gripping the elf’s legs and pushing them apart quickly, settling against him. He quite liked doing that. And wondered how his body would react to having it done to him. He licked his lips. “I feel I should either wait with bated breath or fear. Which shall it be?”

 

*

 

“Baited breath...” Mahanon hummed, even as he rolled his hips up against Dorian’s in the way he _knew_ w liked. “Mm...You know I’m not dim. I’ve seen how alike your Fenris and I look. ‘S uncanny, really...” he sighed, leaning up to press his lips to Dorian’s warmly. “If you wanted, we could always _pretend_...”

 

*

 

Dorian pulled back and raised a brow after the kiss, unsure of how to respond. “Mahanon... I could never do that to you... I’d never ask you to do that. You aren’t a replacement, ‘Non.” He whispered, looking down at the other. “But you would do that? Or is it a kink thing?” He asked wryly, licking at the others lips. “Mm, if you’re wanting to do that then we can. Are you going to be able to pull off the prickly attitude?” He chuckled.

“Hmm, I wonder if Fenris would be up for a threesome. I certainly could satisfy both of you. Plenty of Dorian to go around.” He smirked, biting at his lips now before grinding into him.

 

*

 

He laughed, happily sucking at the mage’s lower lip. “I would be willing, if it’s what _you_ wanted...” said the elf, his eyes twinkling as he looked up at Dorian with a grin. “ _Oh_...is there, now? Well, what if I don’t want to share?” He teased, knowing that, if Dorian only asked it of him, he would step aside without a word against either of them, only ever having wanted his friend’s complete happiness. His fingers found their way to one pert ass-cheek and he squeezed playfully.

“Mm...what’s he like?” Mahanon asked curiously. “I’ve only talked with him a handful of times, and...Never got much out of him. But you- you’ve...grown very close with him, no?”

 

*

 

Dorian chuckled a little, rolling his hips slowly to get friction on his cock. “He’s actually a bit like you. Closed off at first, but when he lets you in, you’re there for good. When he lets you even closer, you never want to leave. Except it takes a lot to get past those defenses, from what Varric told me. But he was so responsive, since it was the first time he’d been shown pleasure. Made him come untouched while he rode my cock.”

The mage smirked, watching Mahanon’s reactions. “My dear Inquisitor! Are you getting off on thinking about me fucking Fenris? About the sounds he made while I sucked him off and swallowed every last drop?” he leaned in to growl in his ear, grinding a little harder.

 

*

 

Mahanon moaned unashamedly and bucked his hips up as his cock stiffened even more. He tried to grind against Dorian with a throaty whine. He nodded, and brought his lips to Dorian’s neck, where he sucked a bruise into the supple skin. “It is a very... _inspiring_ image, to be sure...” he gasped, trying to find a rhythm against Dorian’s cock. “Did he-..beg you for more? And...the lyrium....did it-...? What did it do?”

 

*

 

Dorian smirked and flipped Mahanon onto his stomach and then to his knees. He spread his cheeks and rubbed the length of his cock along the elf’s hole. “Mm, not so much begged but demanded. And I was all too happy to oblige. He rode me like he was meant to be there, Mahanon.” He rolled his hips, watching the other as he continued to tease him. “I’d already sucked him off but he was hard again and taking his pleasure shamelessly.” He growled when he leaned down to suck on the tip of a pointed ear.

*

 

“ _Oh_...” Mahanon whined in frustration as Dorian teased him mercilessly, and tried to press back, seeking that wonderful fullness that he _knew_ the mage could provide. “Did he? Would’ve liked to see that...” He arched, and pressed back against Dorian again, looking at him with a pout. “Was he as eager for it as _I_ am?” he asked breathlessly. “Did he...fuck you?” 

*

Dorian groaned softly as Mahanon rocked beneath him, pouring a little wine on the little dip above his ass and sucking it up, leaving a mark behind. “Mm, he was. Once he knew I was giving pleasure he was practically gagging for it. Much like you are. I can feel your greedy little hole clenching against my cock.” He purred, press in the tip of said cock against him - of course he wasn’t going in right away. Just teasing with what could be done. 

“He didn’t. We didn’t get that far. And _that_ cherry hasn’t been popped yet, dear. I wonder how the Lyrium would feel. His dick has it too. Tastes wonderful. It seems to vibrate, tastes how electricity smells. It sings and when he comes. Maker, it’s _gorgeous_. He glows.” He stated as he slicked his fingers with the same spell he’d used with Fenris, two sliding in carefully to start stretching the other.

*

 

The elf keened at the gentle press and stretch of the Tevinter’s fingers. “Does he, now? Oh....I bet _that’s_ a sight to see...” Mahanon’s breath caught in his throat, and he eagerly pressed himself onto those fingers, greedily taking them into himself with pleased little whimpers as his cock twitched, and left a smear of precome against his belly.

He cursed in Elvhen, trying not press himself even further onto those wicked fingers. “You have _all_ the fun, don’t you? He sounds... _magnificent_.” His voice was light and breathy, teasing as he clenched and squirmed. “Perhaps it’s time I had a bit of my own fun, eh?” Mahanon’s eyes went to the pile of papers he’d brought in.

*

 

Dorian bit his lip and groaned, seeing where Mahanon was headed. But he wasn’t going to stop. And Mahanon knew it, damnit... “You’re honestly going to read that instead of focusing on my fucking you?” He asked, biting at the elf’s neck playfully. “Are you desperate for full imagery? Thinking about me fucking Fenris against the wall at the palace? Or me being bent over the war table and fucked to within an inch of sanity while everyone else is sleeping?” He asked, twisting fingers and adding a third and eventually a fourth.

When Mahanon was settled, was waited until the elf started reading before thrusting in in one quick motion, bottoming out with a low groan. “Fuck, you’re always so tight...”

 

*

 

“I’m curious!” Mahanon protested, moaning even as he was stretched even more. His hips jerked forward, thrusting weakly into the air. “ _Oh_ -...damn those fingers of yours..” he hissed, when he felt them removed, and had to blink to clear his vision so that he could see the page in front of him, having begun to go cross-eyed with pleasure. 

“’...His skin gleamed in the moonlight as the elf - a masterwork in all regards- pressed up against the rough stone of the castle wall, bared for the gaze of his lover, careless of the party that was going on just inside the castle.. The mage in question eyed his body like a feast ready to be devoured.--’ _Ah!_ ” The elf’s voice hitched, and he whimpered, clenching around the cock inside of him eagerly; he knew Dorian liked him tight, and he always loved the feeling of being stretched even more. “Dorian... _Dorian_ , you arse...” he groaned. “Move. _Please_ , move... _oh_...”

 

*

 

Dorian smirked, licking his lips. Holding tight to Mahanon’s hips to keep him from wriggling. “Hmm? But that would distract you from the riveting story. Do go on. I’ll move, but if you stop talking I’ll stop fucking you.” He challenged, “See if you can come by the time Fenris does in the story, hmm?” 

And with that he set up a fairly easy pace, steady so he didn’t impede the others ability to read the words properly. Though he knew if he moved just right the ever eloquent Inquisitor was reduced to moans and whispers and nothing more.

 

*

 

Mahanon groaned. “Bastard...” And yet, he _knew_ he wouldn’t back down. Not from a challenge as _riveting_ as that. He fell easily into pace, his eyes fixed on page after page as he read, his voice the only thing that belied how turned on he was by the mixture of imagery in his head, and the tantalizing motions of Dorian behind him. 

About halfway through the third page, the elf saw stars and cried out in pleasure: Dorian had found his prostate. He whined, and bit his lip as he was reduced to wordless moans and gasps, with the occasional word of Elvhen slipping through. “ _Oh_....”

 

*

 

Dorian slowed his pace to eventually stop, draped over Mahanon’s back and panting heavily. “Fuck... mm, you stopped reading. Does that mean you want me to stop, too? Or would you prefer to have my cock as the only stimulation?” He asked lowly, gyrating his hips slightly before picking up a faster pace, holding tight to Mahanon’s hips, pulling him back with light grunts. 

He kept the angle, making sure to hit the others prostate as often as possible, eager to make him come hard enough to hit the pages beneath his head.

*

 

“I-...” he moaned again, pushing himself onto Dorian’s cock with more force to aid him, clenching and unclenching until he could no longer match his rhythm and all he knew was pleasure. He quickly became little more than a quivering mass of sex, wrapped in a haze of pure bliss, and when he felt the mage inside him press against his prostate again -after so many times he’d _long_ since lost count- he came with a groan and Dorian’s name on his lips, spurting white streaks of cum onto the sheets, _and_ the pages beneath him. 

Mahanon collapsed face-first onto the bed beneath him as his arms finally gave out, tingling with the effort of holding himself up for so long. He whimpered weakly and tried to roll over. “You _ass_...” he grinned. “...can’t give the pages back to Varric like this...”

 

*

 

Dorian grunted and slammed into Mahanon as deep as he could when he came with the elf’s muscles clamping down- milking him for everything he had- and leaned on him, hips giving little thrusts to prolong his orgasm. “ _Mahanon_...” he groaned weakly, kissing his shoulders as he propped himself up on one hand so he wasn’t crushing the other. He grinned down at his handiwork as he came down from his high, chuckling and carefully pulling out- only to flop down beside him. 

“Mm, you’re really upset that I made you lose the ability to think and then made you come hard enough that you hit your own chin and soiled the papers by your head?” he asked, leaning over and licking said cum off of the Inquisitors chin with a smirk. “I’m sure that’s not the only copy he has, love. And there will be others. You can still read the rest of it. You only smudged a few of the lines on the third page there. Though...” he picked up the most recent page and read the top line, “Fenris doesn’t mewl.” he said deadpanned before laughing and tossing the paper at Mahanon.

*

 

Mahanon gave an undignified squawk as the paper fluttered past his head. So, it wasn’t perfect literature; _he_ still found it interesting! The elf grinned and threw himself at Dorian with a laugh. “Oh, no? Tell me, then...” he purred, quite happy to turn Dorian’s chest into a pillow. “What _does_ he do?”

 

*

 

Dorian got a devious grin on his face and quickly slipped two fingers into Mahanon’s still open hole and went straight for his prostate. “That. He makes that same noise when I touched his prostate.” he smirked, removing his fingers and using a cooling spell on his fingers to numb the area a little bit- knowing that nobody wanted a sore and puffy hole. No matter how cute it looked. Though Mahanon would never know that he enjoyed the sight of his hole red, puffy, and leaking his cum. “Maker, would I love to see the two of you go at it...”

 

*

 

The elf’s head fell back against Dorian’s chest, his eyes wide, mouth a perfect ‘o’ of pleasure. “ _Oh, Creators..!_ ” he keened, hips giving a final weak jerk as his cock tried to rouse itself once again, a weak dribble oozing from the tip. “ _Oh_...you-...” he whimpered, trying to catch his breath. “....would you... really?” he heard himself ask, wondering if such a thing would even be _possible_. “....would he...aha...would he be up for it?”

Mahanon could already feel himself beginning to drift, dazed from the amazingly good fucking he’d just been given.

*

 

Dorian smiled and nodded, arm going around Mahanon, eyes closing as he enjoyed the feel of another body beside him. “Mm, I most definitely would. But I’m not sure how he would react. He wasn’t introduced to pleasure during sex until I showed him. And then possibly not again until Hawke. He either would be against it entirely and not want to share if we ended up together, or he’d be open for any form of good sex. So long as he comes back to me each night I would be alright with it. I understand the need to be free with my sexual adventures.” he chuckled, kissing the top of Mahanon’s head. “Sleep now. We can talk more in the morning. And...Thank you... For coming to my rescue.”


	7. Arguments and Hidden Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sparring, wine, and a room full of pillows

The sun shone brightly overhead and streamed down through Skyhold’s battlements, brightening the training grounds. The _clash_ and _clang_ of swordfights filled the air as new recruits honed their skill - but all attention that morning seemed fixed on the Inquisition’s resident Qunari, and the white-haired elf who had become a fixture ever since Hawke arrived.

The Iron Bull had mentioned sparring, and Fenris was only too happy to oblige - _especially_ if it would distract him from his thoughts. 

The elf darted from one side of the arena to the other, dodging Bull’s attack effortlessly and striking out with a blow of his own, wielding a sword that was nearly as long as he was tall as though it were no lighter than a twig.

*

Bull watched how Fenris moved, smirking to himself as he kept going at the elf, using his weight to change direction but not momentum. “You fight well for a tiny little thing.” He called, laughing and charging after him before swing in his axe. He loved this, having someone that could keep up with him. Krem could only hit so hard. Move so fast. And though he cared deeply for his men, he enjoyed actually being challenged.

Dorian watched, arms crossed and lip between his teeth, as Fenris seemed to dance across the small arena. He’d seen Bull take down a bear with one swing and Fenris was dodging and parrying like it was nothing. Maker, he was beautiful. He could watch all day. He smiled when he caught the others eye, though that one moment of distraction let Bull charge and catch Fenris around the middle to pin him to the ground. “Ha! I’ve won. Do you yield?” He asked. Dorian walked over quickly, wanting to check on the other. Little did either of them know that Hawke was living up to his name and watching from the battlement above. 

“Fenris! Are you alright?” Dorian called, reaching the other two.

*

 

Fenris merely growled, annoyed at having let himself be caught off-guard so easily. While the Qunari had him pinned to the ground, the elf glowered at him, and then, as easily as breathing, his body began to glow, and a strange transformation occurred. From head to foot, Fenris faded, growing as incorporeal as a spirit from the Fade right before their very eyes, as the light of his lyrium brands only grew stronger. And then the elf got to his feet, passing right _through_ Bull as though he were mist. 

“I concede,” the elf said with a smirk as he re-materialized, standing before them both some feet away. “That was a good fight, if I do say so. Best I’ve had in a while. We should rematch later.”

*

Dorian’s eyes widened as he watched, body singing with the Lyrium’s song as the other grew brighter. Well fuck, good thing his robes were heavy enough to cover the new bulge in his pants. His eyes were dark as he stared at Fenris, licking his lips and straightening his back before walking over to him. “The Lyrium lets you do that? How? It’s fantastic, certainly handy.” He smiled, taking the elf’s hand under the pretense of looking at the brands. Really he just wanted to touch him.

Bull, however, was less inclined to respect personal boundaries and gripped the other arm gently, bringing it to his mouth- bending himself of course- to taste it. “So it really is Lyrium. I thought you were just a mage that preferred the sword.” He chuckled, releasing the elf. 

Hawke had had enough of people just grabbing his lover and stormed down, pushing Dorian away and glaring at Iron Bull. “I would appreciate it if you stopped molesting my partner.” He growled, standing between Fenris and the other two.

*

Fenris gave Dorian a soft smile. How good it felt to simply be near him again! And after such exertion, too....he would have preferred they were alone, though. He then tensed at the mention of mages (Dorian aside, of course), and pulled his arm back. “Yes, it is, indeed Lyrium. Perhaps I shall tell you how I came by it later.”

The only reason Bull didn’t end up with a hand through his chest was because he had come to know and respect the Qunari a great deal during their stay here; though the man did have _odd_ ideas about personal space -or, rather, the _lack thereof_. He wasn’t rankled by it; not as much as he would have been years ago. It was amazing, how much a reunion could change a man.

The elf tensed even more when he heard Hawke’s voice echoing across the training grounds, growing louder as he made his way over. He was surprised - he’d been so involved in their spar that he hadn’t realized Hawke had been watching. 

And when he saw Dorian pushed away, he frowned. “Hawke, they were hardly-..”

*

Hawke looked at Fenris quickly, brows furrowed. “Hardly what? Bull _licked your arm_ and Dorian was practically fondling your hand.” he stated, crossing his arms over his chest before turning to look at Dorian. “I would feel better if you didn’t spend so much time staring at him. I’m not comfortable with how... I don’t like that the two of you have such an intimate past.” he admitted, keeping his ground between the two.

Bull snorted and crossed his own arms. “Qunari that aren’t mages cannot sense Lyrium. But we can taste it. It acts as a high sometimes. Makes you see things but you relax. I didn’t know that it was Lyrium. I thought he was a mage.” he explained, a bit offended by Hawke.

Dorian just stepped back, not wanting to create a problem. He already _had_ a problem by being in love with Hawkes partner. “I was only making sure he was alright. And to see how the Lyrium worked to make him incorporeal.” he defended, “I wasn’t fondling him. I know he’s spoken for. I’d never disrespect a relationship like that.” _Unless Fenris begged him _and oh wasn’t that a pretty image in his head? He barely hid his smile in time. Thankfully though, Hawke was looking at Fenris at the time.__

__*_ _

__The elf just stared right back at him, his own gaze hard. “There was _nothing_ going on. I was knocked to the ground; I righted myself.“ He didn’t want to see a brawl break out because one man got a bit _handsy_. And even _that_ was stretching it._ _

__Then, what Hawke said registered with him and Fenris began to understand: Hawke was _jealous_. Hawke-....he couldn’t know about that night at the palace, surely! ...could he? Fenris swallowed, and bent to pick up his sword with a snort. _ _

__But...was he jealous of _them_? Or the past that they shared -which, while admittedly less detailed than his and Hawke’s own, felt somehow… _deeper_?_ _

__*_ _

__Hawke huffed and shook his head. “You don’t see it the way I do. Can you give us a minute, here?” he half snapped at Dorian and Bull- who had yet to walk away from his partner. Dorian glanced over at Fenris to make sure he’d be alright- even though the elf could _walk through people_ \- before he turned and walked away, headed to the spare room in the pub that Sera had used before being kicked out. He wanted to listen to this, after all. What kind of hopeful affair could it be if he didn’t get nosey? _ _

__When there he leaned against the window, being careful to not leave a shadow._ _

__“You said he _mattered_ to you... And ever since he showed up you’ve been... Not yourself. How you were when we met, actually. Didn’t want to be touched, didn’t really want to be around me, and you were always watching other people as if they meant to do something. I just... Are you happy? Or upset? Or don’t know what’s going on? I just need to know what’s going on in that head of yours... I’m not a mind reader...”_ _

__*_ _

__Fenris frowned and turned away, his eyes on the blade of his sword as he wiped the dirt and dust from it. “I know what’s going on perfectly well,” he said shortly. The adrenaline from his sparring had yet to wear off, and he prickled more, as he did whenever a fight had gone sour (or whenever he and Anders got into an argument). “Skyhold is a large place; I’m trying to settle in.”_ _

__Only a half-truth, of course, but a truth nonetheless._ _

__He sighed, and sheathed the sword as he turned to face Hawke at long last, and more truths spilled from his lips. “You’ve been more-...more _watchful_ than I’ve ever seen you. You _know_ how that makes me feel.”_ _

__*_ _

__Hawke dropped his eyes and bit his lip, shoulders dropping a bit. “I... I’m sorry. But I just don’t trust that man. He looks at you like he wants to eat you. And you either don’t see it, or you ignore it. Normally you would have snapped at someone that you’re not interested. How am I supposed to react to that?” he asked, stepping closer now that Fenris had sheathed his sword._ _

__“When he took your hand you didn’t bat an eye. But when Bull did you physically restrained yourself from tearing his heart out.” he pointed out, looking away suddenly before huffing. “Are you not happy with me? Or are you really just thrown off by how different things are right now with moving and trying to settle in here?”_ _

__*_ _

__Fenris’ shoulders grew tense at the accusations - the _hurt_ in Hawke’s voice- and he snarled, caught up in the moment._ _

__“Why _wouldn’t_ I be happy with you? Running from place to place, avoiding Templars and slavers at every turn, fighting to survive after the damned city fell to ruin - who _wouldn’t_ want that life?” _ _

__The elf’s voice caught in his throat. _Of course. Of course I’m happy with you. Nothing could be farther from the truth!_ Gut reactions and placations, all of them. _Lies_. A bandage for a wound that was too deep to heal. _ _

__He didn’t _know_. He needed to _think_ -and not here. These questions, the confusion they roused in him - they were stifling. Claustrophobic._ _

__And he had, perhaps, just revealed his hand._ _

__“...Forgive me. There’s just… so much here, now. So much to take in. It’s a change from Kirkwall, I’m sure you know - and certainly from making camp every day.” The elf made a soft sound and leaned against the wall of the tavern, pressing one hand to his temple as a wave of dizziness suddenly came over him. “I’m-… not myself.”_ _

__*_ _

__Hawke stiffened at that, clenching his jaw and standing up straight. “And you think that’s the life I wanted for myself? For us? I never wanted to have to flee Kirkwall. I’ve have to flee from every home I’ve ever known! The time I lived in the Amell estate was the longest I’d lived anywhere! I’ve lost everything, Fenris! And everyone I’ve ever loved. Except you! And now I feel like I’m losing you! After we’ve found a place we could possibly start to call home... And we only find a reminder of your past and… Look...”_ _

__He took a breath and calmed himself. “I’m sorry. We’re both stressed. It’ll take more than a few days to get settled. And you’re making friends, which is fantastic. I’ve never seen you so relaxed like that before. I’m sure once we get a routine going and defeat the latest baddie everything will return to normal. Except we’ll have a bed and proper meals.” he offered a smile and his hand. “I have to go meet with the Inquisitor soon. I just want to know that we’re okay. Are we?” he asked earnestly, kissing Fenris’s cheek before heading towards the war room- muttering something about how nobody knows that elf’s real name._ _

__Except Dorian. And Fenris. To whom Dorian waved to and sent a quick breeze of cold air to get his attention. “Do you want me to come down to you and whisk you away to my private pillow room? Or would you like me to give you a bit of space?” he asked from the window._ _

__*_ _

__Fenris went rigid as a chill of cold wind ran down his spine. His head snapped up at the sound of Dorian’s voice, bright and clear and _welcome_ , and he stared up at him in surprise before it dawned on him that Dorian was offering a respite._ _

__Without a word, his shoulders hunched out of instinct, and it looked as though he would turn and run, as he had so many times before - but he went right to the door of the tavern, wrenched it open, and marched inside. A moment later, he was hurrying up the steps to the second floor, and to the room the mage had settled himself in. He slammed the door shut behind him, and leaned against it, heart pounding in his chest just as strongly as the pain in his head, and he raised his eyes to meet Dorian’s. Dorian, who had heard everything, and did not look in the least bit upset._ _

__His face relaxed in that instant, and relief shone in Fenris’ eyes like a beacon._ _

__“ _Kaffas_..” he cursed, sliding down onto the floor with a sigh._ _

__*_ _

__Dorian chuckled at the curse, shaking his head and lounging back in the pillows. “It’s been a long time since I’ve heard anyone curse in Tevine.” he smiled, gesturing to the many pillows that Fenris could use instead of the floor. The only reason he hadn’t looked upset was because it wasn’t his place. He had no claim over Fenris so he couldn’t be upset that the elf was trying to work things out with his partner, trying to ease his worry. He’d feel the same way if he were in Hawke’s place. That and he knew it would only make things worse for Fenris if he truly got upset. While, yes, it hurt to see him with another, he knew that’s how it had to be. Until Fenris or Hawke walked away. He wasn’t going to break them up if they broke up at all._ _

__“Wine? I have some left over from last night. Mahanon brought me friend-fiction from Varric. Seems he wrote about us.” he grinned and took out the bottle to pour some into a glass for himself before handing over the bottle. Fenris would probably relish drinking from the bottle more than a glass anyway. Made your frustration more valid. Dorian didn’t have anything to feel validation for so he opted out. “Do you want to talk about what happened? Or do you just want to enjoy the peace for a while?” he was good with either, glad to just sit in Fenris’s company again._ _

__*_ _

__The elf fairly moaned at the sight of _good_ wine. “Maker, yes...” he sighed, taking the bottle with more than a little desperation and tilting it back, drinking it like a man starved of thirst. As such, it was a minute before he came up for air, panting. He grinned lopsidedly at Dorian, and a trickle of ruby wine ran down the corner of his lip._ _

__“Mm....has he? I said as much at the palace...” Fenris chuckled lowly and brought the bottle to his lips once again. The pillows that Dorian lounged against looked most pleasant. No one would begrudge him a chance to breathe after that, surely..._ _

__He moved away from the door and flopped against one of the fatter pillows near Dorian, his hair having come loose during his spar, and fanning out as he stretched._ _

__“Both. It is pleasantly quiet here...” But the weight of everything on his shoulders would make it impossible to enjoy it unless he spoke. “..You heard, I take it?”_ _

__*_ _

__Dorian licked his lips when he spotted the wine trailing down the elf’s mouth and then throat, following the lines of Lyrium since they were raised. It was quite a sight, white blue being framed by red... Made him wonder what Fenris looked like splattered with blood. Mahanon looked quite attractive. And that’s when they’d first gotten together, actually. Dorian had snuck into the Inquisitors tent and ravished him after a battle._ _

__He kept himself in check, though. He didn’t refrain from staring at the other when he’d flopped down, a hand going to slide fingers through the long hair. “Never imagined your hair being long. It’s quite fetching.” he murmured softly, sipping his wine and turning to face Fenris properly. “I heard. And was prepared to step in if it got too bad. Neither of you needed to say anything you would regret later.” As much as he wanted Fenris for himself, he knew the two were truly in love. And that Fenris truly was happy with Hawke. His coming along and dredging up old feelings didn’t change that._ _

__*_ _

__A hum left Fenris as he leaned into that warm hand carding through his hair. “Mm...” he sighed. “I know... and we likely would have if things had gotten any more heated.” But, to think that Dorian would have tried to keep the peace between them made his heart flutter in a way that it hadn’t done in _years_. “I just-...”_ _

__Fenris closed his eyes and leaned back against the pillows, turning his head towards the Tevinter mage. “...I’m lost, Dorian. He asks me if I love him, and I-....I cannot answer him as quickly as I used to. I can’t help but think-..Maybe we _are_ growing apart...”_ _

__And that thought _terrified_ him. He was still so lost, and Hawke had always grounded him. _Always_. And yet....he still loved the mage beside him with more fire than the sun._ _

__*_ _

__Dorian smiled and watched Fenris with soft affection. “Fenris, there is nothing wrong with doubt, my dearest. Without doubt we cannot grow. I wouldn’t have left my father and I never would have left you if I did not question him. And, dare I be so bold, you would not have thought to free yourself if you had not met me. You then would not have met Hawke. And he has helped make you the person you are today, am I correct? If you had managed to free yourself and hadn’t met Hawke and changed your mind about mages- certain mages- would you have let me embrace you as I did at the palace? Doubt is a good thing. This will... It’ll help you and Hawke. I want you for myself but not at the expense of Hawke’s feelings when I know you love him. You’re more important than that.”_ _

__He grinned wryly though. “That does not mean I would be adverse to indulgence once in a while.” he teased, cupping the elf’s face tenderly and smiling at him._ _

__*_ _

__Fenris relaxed even more, nuzzling against Dorian’s hand as he moved closer to the mage, unconsciously._ _

__“Are you sure about that?” Fenris asked, smiling as he opened one green eye to look at Dorian. “I am a very selfish man...” he gave a short laugh and brought the bottle to his lips again. “Might not let either of you go.”_ _

__Dorian’s words did help to ease some of the confusion inside of him, however. He propped himself up onto one elbow, watching Dorian in the warm, comfortable silence that began to form, another laugh on his lips. “You’re wiser than last we met, I see… and just what happened to bring that on, hm? I remember a young man all impulse and fire and daring...” And, oh _yes_ did he remember...  
*_ _

__

__Dorian sat up as well, looming over the other with a smirk. “Oh, he’s still there. Trust me. But I’ve learned a thing or two about matters of the heart, Fenris.” he murmured softly, moving his mouth closer to Fenris’s before setting his empty glass on the sill behind the elf and leaning back with a smirk. “And I remember you blushing brightly and begging for my touch. You’ve learned self-control I see.” he teased back, taking the elf’s hand and kissing his palm._ _

__“I learned about all of that after I had to leave you. My father still wasn’t happy and was planning to use blood magic on me at the next debutant ball. To make me compete for her hand as a top contender. I packed what I knew I could sell and left. I went to Danarius’s estate and found it all but abandoned. Something about having left to travel and losing you. He had to sell everything he owned in order to fund his search. I knew you’d left then. Once you had the out, I knew you’d take it._ _

__“So I made my way towards his last known whereabouts. Met up with a ragtag group of cutpurses and learned to flirt to distraction. Helped them break into houses while I wined and dined my way into beds. Though every single one thinks they spent a wild night of passion with a dark skinned man- they were all drugged so they wouldn’t wake and I wouldn’t have to touch them. Disgusting dignitaries that only cared about sex and power.”_ _

__He told his tale, hand roaming down Fenris’s side and to the curve above his ass, fingers pressing in, wanting to just grab it again like he had what felt like forever ago at the palace._ _

__*_ _

__Fenris listened closely, realizing just how much Dorian’s tale mirrored his own, in a fashion. Mirrors of _each other_ , as they had been those years ago._ _

__“But you… escaped.” Fenris said, appreciation in his voice as he let his fingers trace over Dorian’s fine cheekbone, mapping and caressing all at once. “I am glad. That was no easy task…” His voice was soft and warm, though his eyes darkened at the mention of blood magic. “I was not as fortuitous as you - though I did fall in with a band of fog warriors in Seheron. That was before Danarius caught me the first time; and only for a few weeks, at that. My time with the fog warriors was....liberating. They treated me like a brother; like an _equal_...but, as always, Danarius tracked me down. My second escape was more successful - if you count running for three years a _success_.” He snorted._ _

__Fenris blinked at their close proximity, and felt a smile tugging at his lips at the tingle that ran down his spine. He allowed it, and closed the distance between them as he pressed his forehead against Dorian’s, gentle and intimate as he stared into the mage’s eyes. “Every day, I kept thinking I might...run into you out there under the stars. That, somehow, you had caught wind of the trail of slavers I’d left in my wake.”_ _

__*_ _

__Dorian smiled widely, shifting to pull Fenris closer so they were flush against one another, chest to toe. “I’m here. I’m here now.” he whispered, shivering when he touched a line of exposed Lyrium. “It’s like it remembers me. Like we never parted.” he chuckled softly, following the line as long as he could- fingers on either side- up and under Fenris’s tunic._ _

__“We are a funny pair.” he mused, moving to kiss the elf’s cheek before capturing his mouth hungrily, needing to taste him again. He thought he’d be able to get by with what he’d taken at the Palace but apparently he was wrong. It had only been a tease of a taste, a promise of what he couldn’t have anymore. He hadn’t tried hard enough, hadn’t seen the signs of Fenris’s work and followed it. He’d failed to keep his promise. And now he was reduced to stealing from the other behind his partners back. But _Maker_ did it feel nice to hold him again, lazily and without worry._ _

__*_ _

__The elf hummed his appreciation against Dorian’s mouth, winding his fingers into Dorian’s dark locks. Their bodies fit together in all the right places even still - just as they had all those years ago. That, then, remained the same. It only made Fenris’ heart beat all the harder against his chest._ _

__“Mm... odd, yes...” he agreed, parting only to breathe, feeling his blood sing in chorus with the lyrium in such a wonderful way... “A former slave and a runaway Altus. Quite the pair, indeed...” He surged forward, spurred by the gentle press of Dorian’s hands against his back, and caught his lips once again. Again, he felt free, unburdened...and he would chase that feeling for as long as it lasted._ _


	8. Our Private Paradise

Dorian groaned and rolled onto his back, pulling Fenris astride him as he sat forward so he was sitting in his lap. A mimicry of their last position together without the threat of interruption. His hands griped the elf’s ass and squeezed gently, sliding over every inch they could reach. It was almost stupid how complete he felt like this. Finally being able to have this after thinking it was just a dream for so long.

He felt a couple of tears escape before he ground up into the other. “I’ve missed you so much... Like the moon misses the sun.” he whispered. A reference to the fact that the moon received the suns light but could never have the sun. Fenris was Dorian’s sun. “You still wear these sinfully tight clothes. Leaves nothing to my imagination.” he smirked, nosing down his neck to suck and not leave a mark behind. Unless he could leave a huge mark on Fenris’s side and make it look like he took a swing? 

*

Seeing those tears, Fenris tilted his head away to look at him, and pressed kisses along the tear-tracks that marred the mage’s face. “I ached for you…” he breathed, voice catching on a groan of his own as he rocked down into Dorian’s lap. “There were nights I could barely sleep I missed you so much, even when exhaustion had me fast. But you have me now, _amatus_...”

He gasped and leaned in to press kisses of his own along Dorian’s collarbone, sucking a mark just where it would be hidden by the collar of the mage’s robes. “You have me now...”

*

Dorian held Fenris close, rocking up into him and pulling the elf down into him in return. “I do... And you have me as well... No more sleepless nights. No more aching. I’ll have you however you’ll offer.” he breathed softly, kissing him again before laying him down on the pillows, gently tugging at the laces of Fenris’s pants. He watched his face carefully to see for any disinclination as he slipped them open.

When he found none, he dove down, taking him into his mouth like he had all those years ago. He brought Fenris to the edge a few times, but never let him come, needing to speak suddenly. He panted as he licked his swollen lips, a grin on his face. “I never let anyone top me before... It may seem silly but I was always hopeful you’d do the honours of popping that cherry.” he flicked his tongue at the head of Fenris’s cock, huffing out a soft laugh when he suddenly remembered how it tasted- the exact same with the spice of electricity.

*

The elf spread his legs eagerly, moaning his pleasure as he bucked up into that same wet heat he’d missed for so long (for as much as he and Hawke had been intimate, the Champion had always been the one to take control beneath the sheets, and Fenris had pleasured _him_ with his mouth more than he’d had the pleasure of reversing their roles...). 

“Oh...Dorian.. _Dorian_....”

At such a tantalizing idea, Fenris nearly spent himself then and there. He arched, whimpering quietly at the loss of that fine mouth, and reached down to twine his fingers into Dorian’s hair once again. “Yes…Yes, I-...I want that. Want _you_.”

*

Dorian thought that was quite a wonderful idea, actually. Because if he fucked the elf then he’d leave evidence behind. And Hawke would _surely_ know that Fenris and he were up to certain things. But... If Fenris were to fuck _him_ then Hawke would never know. He could walk around with Fenris’s seed inside of him all day and no one would know. He’d probably be half hard all of the time though.

Dorian moved up, shedding his clothes- undoing the buckles with practiced ease- and leaned over Fenris to kiss him deeply. “How do you want me? There’s oil under the pillow you’re on.” he breathed, pulling at Fenris’s clothes frantically. He needed him _now_.

*

Fenris grinned and sat up, pulling at his own clothes and helping Dorian remove them with a fire that hitherto had not blazed nearly half as brightly in a long while. “I-..” He felt under the pillow for the oil and pulled the vial free with a little grin. “..I want to look at you. To _watch_ you. To see your face...”

It was frantic and feverish, yes… but he would not deny the intimacy of the act. This was no mere rut against a castle wall (though he did not doubt there would be some number of _those_ in the future as well...). They had _both_ been wanting this for far too long.

“On your back,” he breathed, uncorking the vial with a quick twist of his hand. He poured the oil over his hand, and brought it own to slick himself, working from base to tip, and never once taking his eyes off of the mage in front of him.

*

Dorian licked his lips and laid back, spreading his legs for the other to fit between them. He propped up on one elbow and reached down to stroke himself, watching Fenris intently. “Have you ever...?” he asked, eyes flicking up to Fenris’s eyes and smiling softly. 

His fingers stole some of the oil and he slipped two into himself with practiced ease, smirking and tipping his head back. “While I would enjoy having your fingers inside of me, I would rather have your cock. We can go slowly after I’ve gotten myself ready... Maker I’ve almost forgotten how beautiful you are like this, fully naked and hard, dripping for sex... I fucked my fist more times than I can count when I first left Tevinter.” he admitted softly, quickly working himself open enough to take a third finger. He did want to feel the burn of penetration, knowing how it felt when he tried to push too many fingers in at once.   
*

 

The elf’s grin turned feral. “Oh? And I presume I was the subject of your fantasies, hm?” Fenris purred, feeling so very comfortable in that moment. He leaned in and caught Dorian in a searing, needy kiss, while his fingers wrapped around the base of the mage’s cock, and gave it a stroke.

“Tell me, _amatus_... how many times did you think of me taking you like this?”

Another stroke, long and tantalizingly slow as he watched those fingers slide in and out of Dorian with increasing ease, watching that tight ring of muscle slowly give way. His own cock twitched at the sight, and he couldn’t help but smile. “How many times did you think of us, together?”

*

Dorian moaned into the kiss, rocking his hips into Fenris’s fist and then down onto his fingers before he pulled them away and gripped the pillow behind his head. “I lost count. Sometimes I didn’t touch my cock at all and only came with my fingers, imagining they were yours. Even fashioned a toy of a sort to fuck myself with. Lost it a while ago but it worked beautifully.” he breathed, wrapping his legs around Fenris to pull him closer.

“Now, why don’t you make my fantasies a reality, _amatus_? Show me how lacking my imagination is compared to the real vision before me?” he asked softly, licking his lips and letting his head drop back to bare his throat in a sign of submission to Fenris’s merciful will.

*

That was all the urging Fenris needed. He pressed himself right up against Dorian’s entrance and groaned. “Yes...” he breathed, and drove himself home (and it truly _was_ a home, all tight and warm and _wonderful_...), moaning as he sheathed himself within him. 

Never had he imagined anything so _perfect_ as this; to have Dorian stretched out beneath him, _all for him_ , and him alone. His skin flared to life, familiar blue glow of lyrium shining faintly in the morning light as he began to move, slowly at first, just content to feel the warmth of Dorian around him. A rhythm was quickly found, and he settled into it eagerly as he descended upon the mage’s bared throat, lavishing it with kisses and bites and licks all the way down to his shoulder. “Oh... _Dorian....mea adori_...”

*

Dorian let out a low groan of approval as Fenris _finally_ slid home, squeezing around him for a second before he forced himself to relax, not wanting it to be over too quickly. This was a long time coming for them- he wasn’t going to last too long in the first place- but he wanted it to last as long as it could, wanted to have Fenris fucking into him forever.

One hand moved behind Fenris’s head, to hold him close, the other gripping his ass to pull him deeper each time. His body sang when the elf lit up, ratcheting everything up so much higher. He was lost in bliss, but not enough to miss the profound words the other spoke. He nodded, kissing him hard. “ _Mea amori, amatus_...” he groaned, throwing his head back and crying out when Fenris hit his prostate dead on. He was a puddle after that, unable to think or speak- hell he couldn’t see and he could barely breathe. And then- all too soon, he was coming, biting a fist to keep Fenris’s name from being cried out where others could hear. 

*

Thrust after thrust he gave, hitting the mage’s prostate with each move of his hips, and feeling himself flush as he moaned, muffling the sound against Dorian’s neck. The sight of Dorian so lost in pleasure -and knowing that _he_ was the cause- was enough to send Fenris tumbling over the edge, then, spilling deep within him as he groaned Dorian’s name against his skin and sought his lips again, kissing deeply, sweetly, _lovingly_ as his orgasm rolled through him.

With the hum of lyrium still in his ears, Fenris raised his head to look at Dorian and smiled, nuzzling the curve of his jaw as he pulled out and all but collapsed bonelessly at his side. “ _Dorian_...” he murmured, breathless, the only thing in his mind at the moment; claiming is thoughts just as much as his body, his heart.

*

Dorian let out a soft keen when Fenris pulled out, relaxing fully when the other flopped down. He looked over and grinned widely, rolling to face him in order to give another soft kiss. “Fenris... you are... magnificent. I don’t deserve you.” He breathed softly, running his fingers through Fenris’s hair lovingly, a stupid smile on his face.

He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve having the other like this- even while he still belonged to another. To have even these secret moments... was more than he thought he’d ever get. “My fantasies fell gravely short of the real thing.”

*

“I’m glad I could impress...” Fenris murmured, sighing as he leaned into Dorian’s hand, craving his touch even as the blissful warmth of afterglow settled over him like a blanket. “You’ve got something new to fantasize about, now, don’t you?” he teased, snuggling as close to the other man as he could. “And I-… never thought I’d see that smile again... It is...a very welcome sight...”

The elf nestled his head snugly against Dorian’s chest with a hum, as he had years and years ago, and looked up at him through his fringe. “I’d gladly do it again...”

*

Dorian smiled again, nuzzling his mouth against Fenris’s in a playful kiss. “Mmhmm. And you’re a mind reader because my next fantasy was going to be about the next time I can have you inside of me again. Then after that it’ll be about when I can next be inside you.” He purred, licking at the tip of Fenris’s nose. “Whenever you’re ready to go again, _amatus_. Just let me know and I’m certain I can accommodate.”

The mage smirked and threw a leg over the elf’s hips, pulling him close and exploring his mouth again, making sure he remembered everything.

*

Fenris hummed happily against Dorian’s mouth, pressing himself as close as he could as though to lose himself in the mage’s arms, in the smell and feel of him. He never wanted this moment to end...

Yet, as he gave himself to Dorian, he couldn’t help the growing curiosity to know everything he could about the man. Everything he didn’t know (which, he realized, was a _lot_ , no matter how much they felt like they belonged together)...and he wondered if Dorian wondered the same about _him_. He sighed, smiling when they parted again, and ran his fingers through Dorian’s hair. “It’s nice...” he sighed. “To pretend for a moment, to think that nothing’s changed...”

*

Dorian smiled and nodded, looking over Fenris’s face affectionately. “Except everything has. I’m no longer dictated by my father. And you are free. Things are better for both of us. Not ideal, but better. Much better. For instance, we have enough time to have you fuck me again and to have me suck you off if you want. If you have it in you to go three times.” he teased, kissing the other lovingly.

“And maybe, I’ll show you a trick I learned in a brothel- had to stay in one for a month or so. Learned quite a few things. Which... I made sure to remember in case we ever...” he blushed again, smiling a little half smile. Yes. He’d worked in a brothel basically to learn things for Fenris. While he’d needed the money he hadn’t needed to learn more than a hand job since he wouldn’t do sex.

*

Fenris’ brows rose in surprise. “I don’t know if I find the thought of you working in a brothel more surprising, or that you learned things...for _me_.” He laughed softly, and nestled his face in the crook of Dorian’s neck. It had taken him years to shake off the ingrained need to please, and even longer to realize that he, too, was just as deserving of gifts and favors as everyone else.

But some parts of the _slave mentality_ clung on stubbornly - and it was those times that Fenris still cursed his former master, though the man was already years in the grave.

“Well... I can’t deny my curiosity...” he went on, humming against Dorian’s neck. “But that-… _that_ , I want to enjoy when I’m not blissfully awash in pleasure...” Fenris grinned, and peeked up at him from behind a lock of white hair. “Now… I can’t say that I did anything nearly half as fascinating, but-...I.. .I found out I had a sister - I _remembered_ her, rather.” Despite the normally happy subject, there was a strange note of bitterness in the elf’s voice. “She remembered me. Came all the way to Kirkwall when I sent her coin enough to come from Qarinus.”

*

Dorian sat up a bit and beamed. “A sister? That’s incredible! You don’t sound so happy about it though... what happened to make you have that face when speaking about a long lost family member? Was she unkind?” He asked softly, running a hand through the others hair to brush it back from his face. He knew why he hated his father but couldn’t fathom why Fenris would have such a tone. Unless she was a mage, given his usual disdain for them. Which was weird considering he’d been with two mages willingly and had fallen for both of them.

Which the thought and knowledge of Fenris’s confession of love made him smile like an idiot again. He leaned down and kissed him softly. “Do you intend to keep in contact with her?”

*

“No… I don’t.” he said shortly, bristling again out of reflex - before he felt Dorian’s lips upon his own and forced himself to relax. “-…when we were children, there was nothing I wouldn’t do for her. I loved her so much... Our mother told me to protect her, and so I did. ‘Don’t let the Master see her,’ she would say. My sister-...” Fenris swallowed, and nodded weakly. “My sister was a mage. We didn’t-...” The elf shook his head. “We didn’t want her to be taken away - didn’t know what Danarius would do to a mage who had been born a slave...”

He stared down at his hands, watching the lyrium branch along his fingers like veins on a leaf. “I never told you how I got these markings, did I?” Fenris asked. A wry smile played at the elf’s lips as he wound his fingers into Dorian’s dark hair. “It was to protect my mother and sister. Danarius had held a contest, you see, and the prize... freedom. I entered - neither of them were happy with that. Mother cried, and Varania -my sister- , she called me a fool and begged me not to. She reasoned that, being a mage, she would stand a better chance. ...but I won. I proved myself the strongest, and came out the victor. I used the boon I had won to set my mother and sister free. For the longest time, I did not know what became of them after that day...”

*

Dorian hummed a little, taking up one of Fenris’s hands and kissing his palm. “So her being a mage is what sets you on edge? Given your history with them? Aside from myself and Hawke, of course.” he chuckled softly, playing with the others hair gently. “You’ve been through more than anyone else I’ve ever met. Lesser men have crumbled under less. But you’re so strong, Fenris. So damned strong...” he breathed, still holding his hand and giving it a light squeeze. 

He did wonder why Hawke was the reason Fenris remembered his previous life, before the Lyrium. “Has your name always been Fenris then? I... the reason I ask is because Danarius seemed to take _great_ pride in calling you Fenris. Now more so to me now that I know you competed for him.” he asked softly, fingers absently tracing over the lines on the back of the elf’s hand, feeling the little hum of energy it gave off against his own skin.

*

Fenris made a soft sound and curled closer just to breathe in Dorian’s scent as he let that soft voice wash over him. “...no.” he sighed. “No, it-....it’s not. It-....Leto.” he breathed at last. The name felt foreign on his tongue, but did not leave a bitter taste; not as it had in Varania’s mouth on _that day_ in Kirkwall. “My name, it’s Leto.”


	9. Names, Love, and Hope

Dorian let out a soft sigh and smiled when Fenris told him his real name, looking up at the ceiling and licking his lips. “Leto... _Leto_...” he fairly purred the name a few times, testing it on his tongue. “Would you rather I call you Leto or Fenris? Or Fenfen?” he teased with the last one, taking away the tension of the question. It was a big one, after all. And making it a little tease he felt he could give Fenris a bit of time to think about it rather than answer right away. He didn’t mind either way, himself. He would call the elf Ser Nice Cock if he asked. 

*

A blush settled on the elf’s cheeks at the jest, and he chuckled, softly -but _earnestly_ , with no force or reluctance behind it at all. It had been so many years since he’d heard _that_ name spoken with anything approaching tenderness that he’d almost forgotten about it. But, now that he heard it again...he didn’t want to stop.

And he didn’t want to wait, for the longer he waited, the stronger his doubt grew.

_Fenris_ had been forced upon him, and he had been molded to fit, and was even now still shaking those chains loose. _Leto_ -....Leto was freedom. Happiness. A name that he could mold and shape as _he_ saw fit, clean and untarnished.

“I think-...Leto.” he nodded, and his smile grew just a little more, bright and happy. “Call me Leto.”

It would take getting used to...but he thought he would rather like that.

“You’re the only other one who knows...” he went on, quietly, as though to keep the matter private. “You and Hawke, that is. _You_ are the only one I’ve told, personally. Hawke-....Hawke overheard my sister say it.”

*

“I’m honoured to have the privilege of your name, Leto. I won’t abuse it. I’ll call you Fenris in front of the others, since you haven’t told them. They don’t need to know until that happens.” he promised softly, nuzzling into the others hair. “Leto...” he whispered, quite liking how the other reacted to having his name called. “ _Mea Amori_. I’ll never tire of saying that to you.” he added, smiling like an idiot once more. He seemed to be doing that quite a lot recently.

*

The elf was quite quickly becoming putty in Dorian’s arms, relaxing into the warmth and the quiet lull of his voice. “Nor will I...” he hummed. “ _Mea adore_...” His arms went around Dorian’s chest as best as he was able, and he closed his eyes, resting his head upon that firm, broad chest, content to lie there all day - and longer, if he could. This was where he _belonged_.

“Mm...You’re certain no one will stumble upon us here, like Varric did at the palace?”

*

“No one will disturb us unless it’s an emergency. And only Mahanon knows I even use this room in the first place since Sera was kicked out. They think she booby trapped the place before she left. She was... Unpredictable to say the least. Mahanon went to conscript the help of a wealthy man because he could provide funding, and what does she do? Follows along and beats the man to death with her bare hands because she had information- bad information by the way- that the man was horrible. Did some really bad things. Either way, she went against her boss. I swear the girl was mental..” he mumbled, shifting to cuddle Leto more before reaching up to close the window fully. “Don’t worry. We were both pretty quiet. And the pillows keep the sound in.” he explained, content to just _be_ with Leto in the now colourful room.

“Varric won’t find us here. He doesn’t like leaving the main quarters too much. I think he has a crush on Leliana.”

*

Fenris- no, _Leto_ \- hummed quietly and laughed. “I’m surprised it’s not the Seeker. From what I heard from Hawke of his letters, the woman was quite… _insistent_. And, I understand, she’s a fan of his books...” He hadn’t heard much of Leliana, aside from the fact that she was a feared spymaster.

Still, he was more than grateful to have a room where he could be properly _alone_ with Dorian, at last. “Well, it was good for us, then, that she left. These pillows are amazing...” And even though they were in a tavern, it seemed that this little room was wholly disconnected from the rest of Skyhold; a private little oasis of sunlight and incense and soft, plush pillows. “Yet… I bet your own quarters are even more opulent, are they not?” Leto teased as he peeked up at Dorian through his hair. “Full pillows and rich curtains and the softest bed that the Inquisitor could get his hands on?”

*

Dorian chuckled and nodded, rolling to lean over the other. “Oh yes. Stone walls so nobody can hear it when you scream. You’ll scream my name when you cum, right? When you fuck me?” He purred, pressing a kiss to Letos collar bone. “When all of this is over, I’m going to steal you away and there will be nothing but us for days. We’ll say we’re on a mission.” He murmured, worshipping Letos body with lips and hands. Nothing overtly sexual, but more sensual and loving.

Hawke hadn’t done anything like this in a while. Of course there hadn’t been any time for it, really. But before it had been quick and desperate, never knowing when they’d next be able to feel one another. Not that Hawke had loved Fenris any less.

*

“Oh...will you?” Leto purred, a groan slipping past his lips as he felt Dorian’s hands and lips upon skin that still tingled, heightened by pleasure. “A mission far away, in some remote place where they’ll have a hard time ever finding us...” he hummed. His legs spread automatically to let Dorian have all the room he desired, having never felt so _loved_ in his entire life. 

Of course, any time he’d gotten to spend with Hawke was a pleasure... but their moments had been heated and passionate - even in Hawke’s estate. Frantic touches and kisses, full of uncertainty and desperation. But here-... _now_ \- this was slow and lazy and... _wonderful_. He smiled at the mage, and it was so full of love and warmth. 

“And how long have you been planning that, hm? Whisking me away to regions unknown...” Leto’s fingers ran down his own body, slowly, caressingly, and found their way into Dorian’s hair with a sigh. “You’re so beautiful...and I-...I’m _so glad_ I can finally enjoy it...”

*

“Since I was taken from you.” He answered without hesitation, sucking down his stomach and nuzzling around his cock. “I quite like hearing your compliments, my dear Leto. The breathless way you speak my name... I could get addicted to it. Perhaps one day I can’t control myself and take you against a tree in the woods, far away from the others. Just to feel you dig your nails into my shoulders. You’d have to keep quiet though. Can’t have others hear the gorgeous voice of yours, Leto.

“The things I’ve dreamed of about you. The things I plan to do to you. For you to do to me...” He growled lowly, licking his inner thigh and slowly moving up again. “Would you like me to show you what I learned? I’m sure it’ll leave you boneless and mindless.”

*

Leto’s voice was a quiet, breathless whine. He shuddered, feeling pleasure shoot up his spine like lightening, mingling with the lyrium in his body. “Yes...” he gasped, winding his fingers into Dorian’s hair and being mindful not to hurt. “ _Yes_...” 

He wanted to feel everything Dorian had to offer. Everything he’d missed out on.

*

Dorian groaned against Leto’s skin when he heard how desperate he sounded, hooking his hands under his knees and hiking them up towards his chest. “Hold them there for me, let me see you.” He whispered, licking his lips and moving to push a long round pillow under the elf’s hips the raise him up. 

“Let me know if you don’t like it.” He breathed, leaning down and nosing at the base of the others cock again, mouth sucking gently at the sensitive skin of his sac. He delighted in the fact elves only had hair on their heads and around their genitals. His tongue laved attention before dipping lower, eyes on Letos face the whole time. 

He ducked his head and swiped his tongue over his puckered hole, gently pointing his tongue to prod at it lightly. 

*

A gasp caught in his throat as Leto’s eyes widened. His toes curled, and he caught his lip between his teeth at the rush of pleasure that shot through him. It was… odd, yes, but he didn’t want it to end, his curiosity driving him on.

“ _Dorian_...” he groaned, hugging his knees to his chest. He arched, squirming, and pressed himself closer to Dorian’s tongue, urging him on. “Oh....”

*

Dorian shivered a little before licking with the flat of his tongue, holding his cheeks apart. He was ruining his normally perfect moustache but he couldn’t think of a better way to do it than pleasuring his love. He gently sucked around the rim, carefully scraping his teeth along it before suddenly plunging his tongue into him. He pressed his nose against his perineum, stimulating his prostate from outside while he flexed his tongue repeatedly, drawing it out and thrusting it in over and over. He wanted his elf delirious with pleasure. Which is why he added a finger to press his prostate inside as well. 

*

The elf cried out, his surprise mingling with pleasure as Dorian’s tongue slid inside of him, and withdraw, in and out in a way that he’d never known was possible. His eyes shut, and he bit his lip to muffle the moan of pure bliss that threatened to slip out as he felt that finger enter him, as well. 

So much pleasure... _so much_...he could have lived on pleasure alone in that moment, and been utterly content.

“Dorian... _Dorian_...” Leto whimpered over and over, growing dizzy with pleasure.

*

Dorian added more pressure, add in a second finger and moving to give his sac attention, too. Sucking one then the other into his mouth before tracing the rim stretching around his fingers. His free hand snuck down to stroke himself, needing some kind of relief from the sight he’d been denied to so long. He wouldn’t even notice how sore his own ass was until he was completely unable to move. Or until he moved a certain way. But it’d be such a sweet burn.

Which he couldn’t help but slide two fingers into himself, moaning against Leto’s hole as he looked up at the other. He loved how wrecked he looked from just his mouth and a couple of fingers.

The elf had thrown his head back against the pillows, his jaw slack as he cried out his pleasure, heedless of any in the tavern who might yet hear. He arched, hips thrusting weakly into the air as his erection bobbed, full and dusky once more, against his belly, the markings along it and the rest of his body already glowing dimly in his arousal. 

Leto trembled too feel himself stretched even more, little shocks of pain mingling with the pleasure in a way that did not distract from the haze he’d fallen into. Pleasure and pleasure and pleasure - so much that he thought he might burst if Dorian added any more fingers inside of him. “Ah- _amatus_...” he gasped, bucking again as he clenched around Dorian’s tongue and fingers both.

*

Dorian hated to suddenly let Leto drop down but he absolutely had to give the other the same view he’d had all those years ago. He pulled off abruptly, licking his lips and pulling his fingers free before climbing on top of the elf. He straddled his hips and gripped his cock, dropping onto it suddenly and letting his head drop back. “Fuck... Leto...” He groaned softly.

He let himself and Leto get used to it for a moment before going to town, basically. He was too keyed up to go slow, needing release _nownownow_. He braced himself on the pillow above Leto’s head, gripping tightly, and slammed himself down, cock slapping against his own stomach and the elf’s with how fast he was going.

*

If he’d thought he’d experienced pleasure before, he’d been wrong. This, the feeling of Dorian _riding_ him, outstripped anything else. Hawke had never ridden him like this, nor did his skin glisten so brilliantly when slick with sweat. Dorian was tight and warm and Leto knew he wouldn’t be able to last a minute longer if the mage continued on at that pace.

“Ah-...Dorian.... _please_!” he cried out, feeling language once again elude him. He whimpered and moaned, snippets of Tevine slipping out as he lost himself in pleasure, and came with a choked whimper, spilling deep inside Dorian for the second time while he again saw stars.

*

Dorian squeezed around Leto when the elf came, following not long after at all. He slumped over, forehead resting against the others, and panted heavily, chuckling breathlessly. “I don’t... mm... I don’t know which is better... watching you ride me... or watching you being ridden...” He breathed, groaning softly as he lifted up and dropped down flat on his back next to his secret lover.

He stretched and bit his lip when his muscles pulled so nicely. He let out what basically equated to a purr. “You are incredible, Leto. _Mea adori_.”  
*

Leto smiled softly, blissfully dazed and floating, and tilted his head to look at Dorian, watching his own flushed face. The elf grinned, and leaned in to nuzzle his cheek. “ _Mea adori...aeterna_.” he hummed, knowing full well that Dorian was spoiling him for Hawke....

And he hardly cared.

But one thing stuck in his mind, rising up through the pure happiness Dorian had given him. “... We’ll...hide this. Yes? Hawke is-....” Leto bit his lip as he nestled closer. “Hawke is not the most _perceptive_ of men, but...he’s certainly one for suspicion...”

*

Dorian nodded, holding Leto close to his side and relaxing back. “Of course, if that’s what you wish. The only other besides us that will know is Mahanon. And only because I won’t be able to hide it from him. He knows me better than to notice that I’ve gone from glaring out the window to grinning like the fool he claims I am without reason.” He chuckled, shaking his head. 

“I wouldn’t ever put you in a situation where you’d be confronted, _Amatus_. You love Hawke and you love me. This way, you get to have both of us.” He reasoned. He’d grown up with such arrangements before. Sometimes worse. His parents for one. Married for wealth and power and to make powerful babies- i.e. Dorian and no others- and not for love. His mother had a secret affair with the neighbouring Duke. His father knew but as long she never birthed children that weren’t of the Pavus line, then he allowed it. Of course Hawke would have something different to say since both of his parents had adored each other. He grew up believing in true love and being with one person. Dorian was taught to grab love if and when you could find it, even if you couldn’t have it to yourself. Even if you had to share.

*

The elf gave a nod. “I suppose that makes sense...” he murmured, for he knew just as well that love was fleeting and precious - and to be caught between the two would be worse without some form of compromise. He would not feel used again...never again. Not after the many times Danarius had whored him out for favors, letting him be passed around like a favored pet or concubine, and nothing more. It would all be on his terms, now - even if he was still privately conflicted.

But a solution was a solution. And he would have them both...but to not have them _completely_...that was what stung, even now.

Leto sighed, and nuzzled against Dorian’s chest. “What was it like, growing up as you did?” he asked quietly. “I know so little of-… _you_.” And he wanted to know more. Everything. As much as he had learned about Hawke over the years - if not more.

*

Dorian smiled, leaning back and closing his eyes, fingers running through the soft white hair. “Mm, my childhood was normal, I suppose. Or, normal for a Tevine. My parents married for political gain and wealth. Arranged by their parents, of course. My mother is deeply in love with her lover. My father is deeply in love with what Jaqueline refers to as ‘The Game’ and doesn’t care what my mother does so long as she keeps it secret and doesn’t get knocked up.

“But my mother loves me dearly. She taught me many languages, taught me about love, how to fight, how to secretly use magic. She practically taught me everything I know, really. My Father only tried to teach me about politics and how to get ahead, and how to choose a suitable woman. In his own way, I think he loved me. But more as his heir than his son. As such I got more than enough love from my mother to compensate. And she hated how the system works there. She secretly paid all of the slaves my father bought. He never caught on.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “It took forever to convince them to take the money, thinking they’d get punished. But ultimately they accepted, and they’re all still very happy from what I know.” He smiled and looked down at the elf before kissing him softly.

“I’m sure you’ll be happy to know that I was a hellion growing up. Caused all kinds of trouble. Turned cats purple, blew vases up, made robes float around peoples hips. It was quite entertaining to watch a grown man turn different shades of red while trying to hold his robes down.” He laughed. “And what of you? What do you remember?”

*

Leto couldn’t help but smile at the images such thoughts conjured up; a loving mother, and Dorian much, much younger than he was now, being an absolute _terror_ to the wealthy and powerful.

“Well...” he said, purring into the kiss, and chasing after it, before he settled himself against that warm chest, so that he might hear the mage’s strong heart beating just underneath, and from it, draw courage. “Mine was quite different, as I’m sure you can imagine.” Leto sighed quietly. “I remember little of my father, other than the fact that I apparently look very much like him. He was killed trying to protect my mother and I when we were captured by slavers and chained. I was very young when that happened - three? Four, perhaps? After that, I-...remember the thatched roofs of the slave houses, and… playing with my sister while our mother worked and, sometimes weaved. There were so many other elves there… I didn’t understand why they were there - why _we_ were there… or why they kept their heads down.

“I remember the stink of the market in Minrathous on a hot summer day as we were herded along like cattle, and put on display to be bought. Danarius liked what he saw. My mother begged Danarius not to part my sister and I; he conceded, and bought the three of us. She loved us so very much...she would have done anything to keep us from being separated...”

*

Dorian squeezed Leto closer, pressing a long kiss to the top of his head. “Do you know what became of your mother? We could find her if you wish? Bring her here...” he breathed softly, wishing the elf hadn’t had to go through so much pain and suffering. It wasn’t right that slaves existed. That people were seen as lesser because they were different...

He wanted to take away all the hurt Leto had to endure, take away every bad memory and replace it with happy ones, ones he adored and wouldn’t trade for the world. Though, selfishly, he supposed that if the other hadn’t gone through any of that, they wouldn’t have met. They wouldn’t be here together like this. “I’m sorry you went through so much. And at such a young age, too...”

*

The elf shook his head. “What’s done is done.” he said sulkily, his scowl returning for the first time in Dorian’s company. Would he have loved to see his mother again after so long? Yes, a thousand times yes. But....would he have wanted her to see how much her son had changed over the years? Leto hung his head, and then tried to hide his face away in the crook of Dorian’s neck. “Besides...I don’t even know whether or not she’s even still alive.”

But, again, his heart screamed _yes_. He _did_ wish to see her again...so much so that his heart ached.

“It would be a-...a long journey, wherever she is.”

*

Dorian smiled, reaching up with his free hand to make Leto look at him. “Hey, we can find her. All it takes is a few inquiries and following a paper trail.” He stated softly, “There’s plenty of room here for her. She won’t ever have to work. Josephine can ask around easily or Leliana can send out a couple of spies out to find her. We have many resources available. But we won’t ask Mahanon. He has enough on his plate without trying to help all of his friends at the same time. Maker knows Sera hounded him for stupid things. He doesn’t need the pressure of finding someone so important.” He murmured. “I’ll take care of her, alright? Don’t worry. Mother might even be able to help.”

*

Encouraged by Dorian’s words, a hesitant smile crept back onto Leto’s face. He felt that little glimmer of hope that had flared when he and Dorian met again grow just a little bit brighter. The way the mage spoke, it sounded as though they might actually have a chance.

Far more of a chance than he and Hawke would have on their own. 

And he had no words of doubt to say in the face of that. Nothing that he could even think of to change the subject. Leto nodded again, and closed his eyes, allowing himself to believe that, for once, something in his life might actually turn out _right_. “Alright...”


	10. Bad Jokes and Sturdy Ruins

Dorian grabbed Leto’s hand as Hawke walked ahead of them with Mahanon and Bull, squeezing gently and watching ahead of them before kissing the elf softly. He pulled away and resumed his previous position with his hands behind his head before Hawke turned around and gestured for Fenris to catch up, unconcerned with Dorian lagging.

“Hey, you seem to be a bit happier lately. I take it you sorted everything out? Cleared the air with him?” he asked softly, an arm going around the elf’s waist as he grinned widely. He was just happy to see Fenris happy. Bull dropped back a little bit and nudged at Dorian, a brow raised. Dorian just shrugged, pretending not to know anything.

*

Fenris’ cheeks had gone pink at the kiss, but his smile lingered long enough for Hawke to see and think it was meant for him. “Yes...” he said. 

(And, oh, they had done _much_ to clear the air before Hawke had returned from his meeting. He was fairly certain he’d left Dorian walking funny for a while, now...)

“I do feel better.” the elf admitted. And that much was true. He felt lighter than he had in days. “...it is good to see you smile again, as well.” Fenris said with a little laugh as they walked.

*

Hawke only smiled brighter at the comment and Fenris’s laugh, leaning in and kissing his cheek. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. And that we’re alright. I was worried I’d fucked everything up between us... But I promise I won’t try to make any moves on you. Not until you’re ready for it, alright? That doesn’t mean I won’t still try to make you dinner or try to romance you. Just without to pressure for physical intimacy. Sound good?” He asked, glancing up when they finally reached the last scouted campsite. “Oh, this is actually quite nice. The Emerald Graves certainly has some hidden gems.” 

Dorian rolled his eyes at the, frankly, horrible joke. And Hawke was supposed to have reminded Leto of _him_? He didn’t tell such awful jokes. Or was Dorian just a little biased? Probably. But he didn’t care. The joke was awful. Didn’t stop Bull from chuckling and thumping Hawke on the shoulder. “Clever. Do you have any other jokes, friend?”

*

The elf’s smile only brightened - not at the joke, because even _he_ had to admit it was painful to his ears- but at the easy way Hawke smiled again. At how he had made him smile, because...he still loved him.

And a little part of him wondered if Hawke had suggested the Emerald Graves for how _scenic_ it was, compared to the other locations they’d visited of late. Lots of trees...certainly places to sneak off.

“Oh, he has plenty. Whether or not they’re _good_ , well...” He let himself smile a little more as he settled near a tent that one of the scouts had set up.

Bull laughed. “You think we are here because it’s _pretty_? You are mistaken. Boss says there’s a dragon around here. Just to the north. We’re here to kill it. I can’t wait to see the size of this one. Every time we kill one they’re bigger than the last. Though in Emprise du Lion there _were_ three but the third one, a Highland Ravager, is still alive. We have not been able to kill it yet.”

“My magic is storm and Necromancy based. Vivienne is flame based. And Solas is spirit based. We do not have a frost mage and that is what we need to defeat her. Unless you’re a frost mage and have been holding out on us? Care to kill a dragon?” he asked, knowing that Hawke and co. once killed one but compared to the dragons the Inquisition has been facing? The one the _Champion_ had killed was merely child’s play. And Dorian hoped that Hawke knew it. Vainly Dorian also hoped that Leto saw that he was a stronger mage- especially since he had not one, but two specialties. 

Dorian’s magic not only elevated the senses, which made opponents flee rather than fight harder and wilder, but commanded nearby spirits to aide in the fight. He wondered, though, what Hawke specialized in. Whether he had succumbed to Blood Magic and Leto didn’t know...

*

Fenris’ eyebrows rose. “A dragon? Oh, yes, that will be interesting...” The last time he and Hawke had gone up against a dragon, it had been in the Bone Pit outside of Kirkwall, and it had been an arduous battle. 

They had won the day - but not without several wounds that Hawke had had to heal (he wouldn’t let the _other_ mage anywhere near him at the time..) 

“I would love to,” he said at last, shooting Dorian a grin.

*

“And Hawke? Would you like to join us in killing a dragon?” Doria asked, making sure to ask the two newer companions individually. Hawke pretended to think about it before grinning widely. “Of course. I have to contribute to the Inquisition with more than my good looks and biting wit.” Dorian wanted to punch himself in the face if it meant escaping the ever eloquent Ferelden.

The Champion looked at Fenris and smiled. “I am a little frosty at times, but nothing compared to him when we first met.” Strange, Dorian hadn’t had any problems getting Leto to open up to him, in more ways than one, when they’d first met and reunited. But, he supposed that’s because Leto hadn’t been fully jaded towards mages when they’d first met, and he’d made sure to do nothing the elf hadn’t been unwilling to do. Either time they’d been together.

Hawke still hated Dorian- though he hid it well to keep drama down. But if Dorian didn’t stop looking at Fenris like he couldn’t wait to touch him again he was going to freeze the man’s genitals off so he couldn’t even contemplate doing those horrible things to his lover ever again. But again, he and Fenris had apparently cleared the air. There wasn’t any animosity between them. None that he could see, anyway. He never had gotten the hang of reading Fenris.

Dorian had though. And he wouldn’t be able to hide the smugness if he ever found out that he knew more about Hawke’s partner than Hawke himself knew. When Leto settled down near a tent he spoke up again. “Let’s check out the area a bit before we settle in. Make sure there aren’t any bears. Pairing off would be a good plan, can cover a good amount of ground that way. A warrior and a mage in each team.” “The scouts have already checked, but I suppose it couldn’t hurt. Besides, The Inquisitor has things he needs to do rather than set a perimeter.” Hawke agreed, fully intending on taking Fenris off on his own. As did Dorian.

“I don’t care which team I’m on. I just want to kill things.” Bull added his input. Torn between wanting to hit on Dorian- since the mage was very attractive and endlessly engaging, and wanting to go with Hawke because he had so many stories that Bull wanted to confirm from what Varric had told everyone.

*

The elf blinked at the idea and nodded. A sound idea, if he’d ever heard one. (And, needless to say, it would give him a moment alone with Dorian - a precious thing that he hadn’t had much time for recently.) “I agree,” he said, rising from his crouch, to meet Hawke’s gaze, as well as Dorian’s. “Why don’t we meet up in an hour?” he suggested to Hawke, though he knew full well that a perimeter check wouldn’t take nearly that long. 

Well, not normally. But there had been talk of _bears_ , after all.

*

Hawke deflated a little before nodding, knowing that it wouldn’t do to argue with Fenris. But he’d hoped to go off and explore a bit, maybe find a cave to have a quick round. But, he _had_ promised that he wouldn’t make sexual overtures towards him. Maybe Fenris had taken it that way, that if he were alone with him, Hawke would try to make a move. Well shit. He’d made Fenris fear him. He straightened up and smiled softly. “Alright. We’ll meet back in an hour. Don’t get mauled by a bear.” he chuckled, gesturing for Bull to follow him.

Dorian looked over at Leto hungrily when Hawke and Bull had turned their backs toward them, licking his lips and smiling. He loved that he’d been picked. It was a heady feeling to know- and have reassurances- that Leto still did want him. Still loved him even when they couldn’t have moments alone like they desperately wanted.

“We’ll cover the south then. Come along, Fenris. Let’s find us a bear to kill.” he chuckled, turning and heading south, knowing there was another set of ruins that they could hide in for a while. He was eager to get there and get his hands on his love again. The trees were dense so they wouldn’t be heard if one of them got too loud. 

“I believe you’re trying to get me alone, my dear warrior. Are you planning on trying to take advantage of me? Oh dear, my virtue.” he smirked, looking over at the other before taking his hand when they were suitably alone. “I haven’t been able to speak with you alone like this in a couple of weeks. How have things been going along for you? Settling in nicely at Skyhold?”

*

The lyrium flared in response to Dorian’s touch, lighting along Leto’s arm almost as brightly as his grin. “Nice enough,” he agreed - and that was somewhat true. For all that Hawke had been keeping close, he had taken time to acclimate himself to their new home, and now knew where everyone themselves settled. Especially Dorian, in that library of his. He hadn’t taken time to seek out the mage’s quarters yet, but he might, soon enough.

This would tide him over long enough.

Leto smiled to himself and laughed softly. And how do I know you’re not planning to take advantage of me?” He teased, purring as they wandered further and further into the forest.

*

Dorian grinned widely at that, pulling Leto along until the ruins were in view. “Oh, my dearest, but I _am_ intending to take advantage of you. I plan on hoisting you up against this wall here, and taking advantage of you until you can’t see straight. And then I might let you come.” he teased the last bit, but intended to make good on the rest of it. 

“I haven’t held you in too long, Leto. It should be illegal the amount of time we spend apart.” he breathed, backing the elf against the wall before doing as he stated, hoisting him u to put the slender legs around his hips, hands deftly working the lacing of his breeches. “Always with the laces.” the mage smiled, pulling Leto into a soft kiss, hands detouring to feel his body instead. 

“ _Amatus_ , I adore you.”

*

A groan bubbled up from Leto’s lips, and he tilted his head back against the stone, shivering at the feel of Dorian ( _his_ Dorian’s) hands upon him, even through the infuriatingly tight fabric of his breeches. “Only because it infuriates you so...” he purred, laughing against his mouth.

“ _Mea adori_ , Dorian...” he murmured, breathless as he pressed himself as close to the mage as he could. His arms went ‘round his shoulders, holding tight as though the world would fall to ruin if he let go. 

There in the forest, in those ruins, nothing could disturb them… they could finally be together, as they longed to be - as they were _meant_ to be. He rolled his hips slowly against Dorian’s, intent on drawing out his pleasure before Dorian even managed to free him.

“ _Mea adori_..”

*

Dorian was a slave to Leto’s desires cupping under his ass to help the elf roll into him, already straining in his own smallclothes under his robes after just a few touches and a heated kiss. “ _Mea Adori, Leto_ ,” he murmured back, accent thickening around Leto’s name. 

Dorian could have died and felt complete, right then. Having Leto in his arms, was more than he could have ever hoped before. This was... More than he thought could be real. True, star-crossed lovers. And he couldn’t get enough of Leto’s voice, and the quiet sounds he made in pleasure.

“Perfect, absolutely perfect.” the mage groaned against the warriors mouth, parting his own robes to be able to grind up against that perfect ass, the tight leggings being perfect to help hold the elf open to grind his cock between his cheeks. He tried to think of a way to convey the need he had for the other, that it was a more pertinent need than even breathing. He would rather suffocate if it meant he could have Leto as his own. That he’d choose him over ever seeing the sun and the stars again. He’d lived too many days and nights without him. Seen too many lands and met too many people without the man beside him.

So much fucking time was wasted. “Leto...”he whispered, suddenly desperate to feel the elf’s skin beneath his fingers, feel it against his own properly. Alas, they couldn’t get fully nude but there wasn’t anything wrong with having pants around ankles and another pair hanging off one foot...

*

“Dorian...” he groaned, nodding. He squirmed against the mage, trying desperately to help free himself from the confines of his leggings, as his hand trailed down the mage’s torso to help Dorian with his own. “ _Dorian_...” 

A wet patch had begun to form where Leto’s laces strained, and a soft whine escaped him as he squirmed again, desperate to feel the air against himself, and also to grind down against his lover and show him just how much he wanted him - _needed_ him - in that moment. 

“ _Need you_...” Leto gasped in Tevine, biting at Dorian’s lower lip. “Need you, need you need you...want you...”

*

Dorian was helpless to resist the other when he was pleading in their native tongue, yanking at his pants while Leto pulled at his laces in order to free him. “Anything you wish... I’m yours.” he whispered back, moving back a little to be able to shuck his pants off. “In my pocket. I have oil. Grab it.” he growled lowly, working their clothes off just enough so he could finally slide his cock along Leto’s with a loud groan. “Fuck...”

He tipped his head back before diving in to claim the elf’s mouth, rocking into him slowly. He took the vial when it was offered, coating his fingers before slipping his hand underneath Leto to tease his hole. “I can’t wait to be inside of you, Leto... I need you...” he breathed, two fingers slipping inside of him with a low groan.

*

Leto whined against the mage’s mouth, pressing himself further onto Dorian’s fingers, so very eager to feel all of him as he had so long ago. _Too_ long. 

“And I you,” he gasped, clenching around the fingers in silent urging for more. His fingers, his cock - he wanted it all. “ _Please_...”

*

Dorian really wanted to prolong this, to drive Leto mad with just his fingers as he had a few weeks ago with his tongue, but he knew they didn’t have too much time to be able to do that. He quickly added a third finger to try and stretch the other before giving into lust and slicking his cock up, replacing his fingers swiftly and practically seamlessly.

He grunted in Leto’s ear, quick, shallow thrusts until he was bottomed out, sac gently touching the elf’s ass. He trembled a little, suddenly back to their first time, the last time he’d been like this with Leto since they’d only had time for quick fumbles in the nook above the tavern, and in dark empty corridor.

Finally being inside of the other was.. Indescribable. He leaned back, watching his face before holding him firmly and starting to move. “ _Leto_...” he groaned his name, keeping slow and steady until he couldn’t take it anymore.

*

The elf’s breath caught in his throat, and he sighed, feeling Dorian warm -so warm - around him, _inside_ him. In that moment, nothing else compared to the _completeness_ he felt here in Dorian’s arms; just as he had those years ago.

He clenched around Dorian’s cock, giving it a loving squeeze as he groaned and tilted his head back against the stone, baring his throat in a sign of submission - of _complete trust_. 

If they’d been able to stay here for the entirety of their scouting mission, and never return to camp, he would have been content. “Dorian...” he moaned, and gripped his shoulders tightly, fingers digging into the fine fabric that the mage wore. “ _Harder_!”

*

Dorian could deny Leto nothing, groaning in response to his demand before giving into it. He hooked his hands under the elf’s knees, effectively spreading him open and lowering him a little, before giving Leto exactly what he wanted. It didn’t matter that he’d probably have a limp that they’d have to figure out how to explain. Being with Leto as he’d dreamed for countless days and nights over the years; that’s what mattered. 

His very soul sang with bliss.

When the elf bared his throat, the mage couldn’t resist going in, laving kisses and gently sucking- still aware enough to know he couldn’t leave marks, no matter how much he wanted to. “Mine... _My Leto_...” he breathed, sucking a light trail up to his ear, thrusts never faltering as the frequency picked up. 

*

“Dorian...” he whined, the name of his beloved becoming a prayer on his lips that he murmured over and over and over. “Dorian, _Dorian_.....my Dorian... _mine_.”

His. All his. The one thing in his life that, aside from his life, was well and truly his....and to hear the mage responding in kind made his heart swell in a way it hadn’t done in _years_. Leto cried out as he felt his lover quicken pace, thrusting into him hard enough that it left him gasping, mouth hanging open, utterly breathless as he gave himself over to pleasure.

*

Dorian had the mind to pull out when he came, cock still sliding between his cheeks as he painted the wall behind them. “ _Fuck_...” he cursed in Tevine, trembling in Leto’s arms as he dropped his forehead to his shoulder, licking at the sweat there for a moment. He couldn’t risk leaving his seed behind, couldn’t risk having Leto have it slow at the seat of his pants. As much as he was loathe to not have the elf leaking and dripping with it.

“Let us never go so long before we’re together like that again. And preferably a time when I can leave you stuffed full of my cum. So I can watch it drip from you.” he purred with a smirk, kissing the other deeply and just holding him close, content to cuddle against the wall.

* 

Leto made a soft sound of contentment as he purred into the kiss, snuggling close and wrapping himself as tightly around Dorian as he could in his blissed-out state. He didn’t even feel the wall behind him, too focused on Dorian, _his Dorian_ , and how he never wanted to let him go.

In that moment, his mind was blissfully free of the doubt that had gripped him those weeks ago. Hawke was happy - _so blissfully unaware_...- and _they_ were happy.

And no one would ever be the wiser.

“Yes...” he gasped, when he pulled away, content to just look at Dorian and drink him in, sweeter than the finest wine he had ever put to his lips. “And perhaps next time in a proper bed, hm?” he murmured, lips quirking into a sly smile as he hungrily pulled Dorian in for another kiss, teeth scraping eagerly at the mage’s lips.

*

Dorian let out a soft sound of pleasure, following Leto into the kiss eagerly, tongue darting out to claim his mouth again. This was... absolute bliss. There wasn’t anywhere else in the world he’d rather be. Just here. Wherever Leto was, he was home. He pulled away when he needed air, hands gently kneading the flesh of the elf’s ass.

“Mm, and I don’t believe I’ve had the time and pleasure to show you my rooms and the generous bed I have. Plenty of room to manhandle and ravish you, my love.” he purred in Tevine again, rocking against him slowly. “And as much as I wish to ravish you again, I feel we will overstep the hour we stated if we wish to actually set up a perimeter.” he mumbled flatly, clearly not a happy camper about that. It’d be easier if Hawke hadn’t come along. He knew Bull and Mahanon wouldn’t begrudge them this time alone. But they had to keep up appearances for Hawke.

He slid his hand down Leto’s leg to grab at the top of his pants and pull them up a little before carefully setting him on his feet and making sure he didn’t fall before helping him into his pants, still worshipping his skin with his fingers even after most would just dress and be done. Dorian was a lover, through and through and wanted Leto to _always_ feel loved and worshipped- even when being dressed or even perhaps being tucked into bed. Just little things. Dorian had spent too long not having the other in his arms and was definitely making up for it. He could tell from the way Leto and Hawke interacted- even when Leto was actually receptive- that Hawke wasn’t really affectionate. He felt bad for Leto, wondering how starved for attention he was. Especially since he’d reacted so... strongly to Dorian’s mouth on him.

Once he was tucked away and laced up in his own trousers he stepped back to examine his handiwork- Leto’s still flushed face, kiss-swollen lips, mussed hair. And... The bite mark on his shoulder that was sluggishly bleeding. His eyes widened. “Oh gods above, does that hurt?” he asked, rushing forward in a slight panic, gently tugging the collar farther over and using magic without a thought to heal the wound. Or at least close it. It would have to heal fully and with a salve, magic was mainly for closing wounds to prevent death. It couldn’t repair it entirely. “I’m so sorry, _Amatus_. I did not mean to hurt you.”

*

“Mm..?” Leto blinked dazedly and turned to look at the mark. “No...” he blinked again. “No, it doesn’t. I’ve felt worse, believe me.” he said with a wry sort of chuckle. 

He reached to prod at the wound - now closed by magic- and came away with a spot of blood on his finger. “I didn’t even feel it…”

*

Dorian’s brows furrowed as he frowned, looking t the bite mark. He didn’t like the thought of Leto having felt worse. “Still... I’m sorry I could not control myself. And now there’s a mark left behind. I’m an idiot.” He chastised himself, shaking his head. Hopefully Hawke wouldn’t see it until after it was gone.

He was about to speak his fears but a low growl interrupted him, eyes going wide before reaching up slowly and gripping his staff. “Leto...” He turned around slowly, pushing the elf behind him to shield him while he grabbed his sword. The bear didn’t look fully grown though, so he wasn’t too worried about taking it down with just the two of them.

*

Fenris’ brows furrowed. “You are many things, Dorian...but being an idiot is not among them.”

His ears pricked, and his shoulders grew tense as he heard, rather than saw the large creature coming out of the brush - and he was already scrambling for his sword when Dorian pushed him to safety. “We can take it,” he said as his fingers closed ‘round the hilt of his sword. His skin had already begun to glow with the Lyrium’s power, and he turned and fixed the bear with a steely glare.

He could take it all on his own, this he knew - but he also knew that it very well might be tantamount to suicide. So, together it was.


	11. Anger, and Healing, and Bears, Oh My!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bear attacks, blood, gashes, cauterizing described in this chapter.

Dorian looked behind him for a second to check on Leto, to make sure he was ready before nodding in response. He grinned a little before focusing his attention on the bear, staff raised at the ready before firing off a wave of electric bolts, blinding the bear long enough that the two of them could dart around the beast. They wouldn’t do well if they were pinned against the wall, in a much _less_ pleasant manner.

“Flank it! I’ll take the front. Distract him from there!” he called, throwing a few more clusters of electricity before creating a cage for prolonged damage. He wouldn’t admit it but he was partially distracted himself, torn between the bear and watching Leto to make sure he wasn’t getting hurt. Though he had every confidence in the other. He had just gotten fucked against a wall not moments before the bear showed up.

*

Leto was on his feet with ease, his blown pupils giving only the slightest hint that he had been in any way disoriented and nearly blind with pleasure but a moment before. He was focused completely on the creature that had charged in to attack them both.

Taking the distraction for what it was, the elf grinned as the bear turned its black eyes on Dorian, and charged, swinging his massive sword in a great arc so as to further catch the bear by surprise. Yet, the bear was faster than even he had imagined, taking a swipe at him with one massive paw, despite the electricity that had shaken the creature. Leto hissed in pain as he felt the bear’s claws tear into his leg, and swung his sword again, desperate to save the limb from being rent right from his body. The lyrium flared, and he phased through the next attack, backing away enough to gather himself for another round.

*

Dorian felt his heart skip a beat when he saw Leto get struck, breath catching before he threw a nightmare at the bear to momentarily blind it while he swallowed a Lyrium potion to be able to send a healing barrier to the elf. It wouldn’t be able to close the wound- not like an actual touch would. But it would slow the bleeding so he wouldn’t die from it. When the bear had recovered from the nightmare, it had slashed at itself a couple of times to free itself from whatever it had seen. Of course the thing was angry and more determined to take them out.

Dorian had to think fast, knowing that he had to get to Leto in order to heal him, but also knowing that he couldn’t take the bear down himself. He just had to weaken it enough that the elf would be able to take it down with one swing. He cast haste immediately followed by despair so Leto would be able to inflict more damage before rushing in himself, ready to use the blade at the end of his staff. He just hoped that he’d be able to call upon his spirit form before he got taken out. Though he didn’t think he had to worry about that since the bear was turning towards Leto- the glowing drawing its attention.

*

Blood trickled down Leto’s leg in thick red rivulets - slowed somewhat by Dorian’s spell. The wound hardly seemed to bother Leto, though, as he looked ready to charge again, though his breath was short. In attacking him, the bear had disrupted the Lyrium’s course, and his glowing form shimmered and flickered as he tried to maintain focus - _anger_ \- on the creature, and not on Dorian. 

His eyes, though, fairly _begged_ for the mage’s help.

He couldn’t let that moment of weakness distract him from the threat, though - not yet. Not yet. The damned thing had to be felled first. With a growl of his own, the elf slashed his blade yet again just as the bear made another pass - and struck it right in the chest, sheathing the metal deep within the great beast’s heart.

Leto watched closely as the bear crumpled to the ground now soaked with blood. A feral sort of smirk worked its way onto the elf’s face, and for one brief moment, the rush of triumph coursed through his veins as strong and sure as the lyrium - that was, of course, until he fixed his eyes upon Dorian once again, and pain gripped him tight. He gave a hiss as his leg gave out, and he sank to the ground beside the beast to catch his breath.

“ _Dorian_....”

*

Dorian watched his lover in awe, stuck where he was in shock as Leto seemed to effortlessly drive his blade into the bears flesh, finally killing it and bringing its rampage to an end. It took a moment or two for him to register just how badly the elf was healed before he rushed over, fairly tripping over himself to reach the other in time. His heart stopped when he got close enough to assess the damage, eyes wide. 

He may have to try and send a spirit animal to find Hawke- the mage was better at healing than he was. But that also meant that he would possibly find out that they had only moments before the attack made love against the ruins. He downed a lyrium potion just to make sure he had enough power to pull before setting his focus to sealing Letos leg.

He had to go one gash at a time. “Stay with me, Leto. Don’t you fucking die on me. I don’t have the power to bring you back.” he pleaded softly, getting desperate as his magic was only partially sealing his leg up. But it was enough to cauterize. “I love you. But this is going to hurt. I’m so sorry.” he breathed, kissing Leto before grabbing his staff and heating the blade enough to press it to the gashes, fully sealing the wounds.

“I have to get you to Hawke. Stay with me. Talk to me, Tell me what you thought about me when we met.” he instructed, strapping his staff to his back and then Leto’s sword- which was surprisingly light. He carefully gathered the elf in his arms, sending an ethereal rabbit off ahead of them to bring Hawke to them.

*

The elf grit his teeth and let out a string of curses in Tevene as the white-hot metal touched his leg. Leto screwed his eyes shut to block out the sight -and to keep from seeing such a look of pain in Dorian’s eyes as the one that lingered there now.

“ _Nnh_....wh-...when we first met?” Through the blinding haze of pain, he felt himself being lifted, and leaned into the warmth of the mage’s arms as much as the other would allow. Some warrior he had turned out to be, he thought darkly. His focus was then pulled back to Dorian’s voice, warm and heavy with concern. No... he wouldn’t die. He wouldn’t let something as _base_ as a bear fell _him_. 

He gave a weak laugh and thought back to that moment in Danarius’s manor when he had first caught sight of the mage from across the room, all flashy clothing and put-on airs.

“I thought you were the most self-absorbed person I’d ever met,” Another laugh slipped out as he elf nestled his head against Dorian’s chest. There was a note of teasing in his voice that had been absent before, and it seemed to raise his spirits a fair bit. “But-...but there was something undeniably interesting about you - nnh... and not just the way you seemed to loathe being in Danarius’ presence as much as I...”

*

Dorian huffed out a laugh, shaking his head a little as he walked quickly but carefully so he wouldn’t jostle the elf too much. He didn’t want to cause undue pain. He’d done enough of that already. “Was I really such a prick back then?” he asked softly, looking ahead for any sign of help. “I hated Danarius. Not as much as you did, but enough without even knowing him. He was awful. And then I hated him even more for confining someone as exquisite as yourself.” he murmured, kissing the top of Leto’s head. 

He let out a breath of relief when his rabbit came into view, Hawke and Iron Bull on its heels. He carefully got to his knees and almost as soon as he was no longer touching the elf, Hawke shoved him away. “You let this happen! You were supposed to... Fuck, what happened to his leg?!” he growled, glaring at Dorian. “It’ll have to be reopened in order to heal fully.” he snapped, hating that he now had to do this.

“I did what I had to in order to keep his from bleeding to death! We were caught off guard by a bear.” Dorian shot back, resisting the need to grab Leto’s hand as Hawke used magic to undo Dorian’s work, reforming the flesh so the Lyrium lines and flesh were both smooth and as they once were. “I’m sorry... I tried to do it quickly, but it’s done, Fenris...” he breathed, leaning over the elf and kissing his forehead. Hawke looked over at Dorian, raising a brow as he sat back up. “Will you get some water for him?”

Dorian knew a dismissal when he heard one, back straightening suddenly before his face went blank for a split second. He forced a grin on his face. “Of course. I’ll be right back.” he replied, hesitating just a moment before forcing himself away. Iron Bull tried to follow, but Dorian waved him off. He allowed himself just a few moments by the river to collapse, hiding his face in his hands. He did feel responsible. If he hadn’t dragged Leto off to have a tryst against the wall, they would have heard the bear. They would have been prepared for the attack...

*

Fenris groaned weakly in pain as his wound was re-opened and mended yet again. It would help him heal, this he knew - but it just reminded him of a time when he’d truly _hated_ magic...

“’m..alright..” he muttered. “M ‘lright, Hawke...nothing vital.” Not like his heart or his innards, at least - though, if the puddle of blood on the ground around him was any indication, it very well could have turned serious had Hawke not stepped in.

“Suppose we’re-... _ah_ -....done with our scouting mission, then....”

*

Hawke held Fenris close, groaning softly. “Don’t ever do that to me again... I thought I lost you when I saw how pale you were...” He whispered, brushing his hair back from his face. “What in the world distracted you from hearing a bear approaching?” he asked softly, settling back a little and helping Fenris to sit up. “I got everything healed up. But I’ll have to carry you back to camp just to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.” 

Dorian returned with a fresh canteen of water just as Hawke was picking Fenris up to carry him back to camp. “I have fresh water.” he called, walking up and handing it to Fenris. “Here, drink up.” he sated softly, helping Fenris to drink. Hawke waited until Dorian had taken the canteen back again before turning away from him, trusting him less than he had before this happened. 

“Let’s get back to camp. I can take better care of you there and fix whatever he did to you.” he breathed softly, but loud enough Dorian would hear. He leaned in and gave Fenris a soft kiss. “And I’ll be able to numb the pain for you. I don’t usually carry the salve on me because nobody typically lets another in the party be left without backup.” he quipped before he turned to the other mage to regard him. 

“I do thank you for knowing to fetch me. I’m sorry I said what I did. I just... can’t lose another that I love. I’ve lost my entire family and I can’t lose him, too.” he confided as they neared the camp a little while later. Dorian smiled a little, knowing the feeling. He had broken a little inside when he’d been forced apart from Leto, only to find him again and discover that he still could not have him again. Until they’d decided they could not be parted any more after so long apart. 

“I only did what I could to save his life. I’m not a healer, but I knew enough to keep him alive.”

*

Thanks to the bit of healing Hawke provided, Fenris had begun to doze on the journey back, catching snippets of conversation as he drifted. They were talking-....talking....about him? Not surprising, given what happened. In this haze, the elf’s mind saw fit to torment him with a confusing series of dilemmas. _Without Dorian, he surely would have wound up worse off; yet, without Hawke, he likely would have healed poorly._

_Without Dorian, he wouldn’t have wound up in such a position in the first place; yet, without Hawke, he wouldn’t even be here._

_Without Dorian, he would have never known life as it was truly meant to be lived; free and unbound. Without Hawke....he never would have found Dorian again._

It was cruel, he thought dazedly, that their fates would be so closely intertwined after all this time, like ships on the sea, and he -in the end- was powerless to guide their course.

He sighed again, and let the soft call of sleep lull him even more, and he fell into a doze against Hawke’s chest.


	12. Curious Cole

Dorian wasn’t allowed near the warrior while he was resting in his tent, Hawke watching over him while he made sure everything healed the way it was supposed to, hands caressing lightly and brushing his hair from his face. “Hey, you’re awake. How are you feeling? I have water, a bit of wine if you’re wanting that instead, and there’s stew cooking on the fire.” he offered softly, glancing over to the entrance of the tent. 

“The Inquisitor came by while you were out of it. He wanted to make sure you were alright. The others completed the survey just to make sure there weren’t any other bears. There weren’t. And the pelt from the bear will make a lovely rug.” he chuckled, shaking his head before kissing his forehead gently. “I’m glad you’re awake. I have to admit... Dorian may have botched the healing bit up, but even if it was bad, he saved your life. And I am eternally grateful for that.”

*

Fenris blinked blearily up at Hawke through his lashes and hummed softly as the world swam back into focus. “He did...” he said quietly. “He was very quick on his feet...”

A yawn worked its way out, and Fenris stretched as much as his body was able, trying to ignore the sharp lancing pain in his leg. He’d weathered _worse_ he told himself; this was _nothing_. But, oh, Maker did it ache...

“I-....” He swallowed and ran his tongue along his lips. When had they grown so dry? Fenris tried again, even as he felt the beginning of that familiar knot in his gut. “I’m glad you’re here...and-...I’m sorry I was such a fool, letting that bear get the upper hand...”

*

Hawke immediately applied the numbing salve when Fenris showed signs of pain, wishing to abate it. Which there was most likely considerable amounts of pain if the elf was grimacing and hissing with it. “Give that a second to take effect...” he murmured softly. His shoulders sagged a bit. “You don’t have to apologize. We’ve all been caught off guard like that. And if you were chatting away like you sometimes do with Varric, then I understand why you were distracted.” Though he was a little stung by the fact that Dorian had the ability to keep Fenris’s attention like that.

But he supposed it would only make sense. They’d known each other before Fenris left Danarius. Been with him when he’d been a slave. Even if he couldn’t stand the fact that Dorian had taken advantage of Fenris when he hadn’t had true consent to give. Despite what had been said.

“Hey, I love you.” He breathed, kissing the elf’s cheek. “Do you want to try and walk around a little? Or rest? I can bring the stew in for you if you want to stay in here.”

*

Fenris’ face wrinkled in pain as he winced. “I would like nothing more,” he grumbled. “But my stubbornness demands I try...” The elf sighed, and made to pull himself upright, despite the slow burning pain that had begun to travel up his leg. That numbing salve really _did_ work.

“We’ve gone up against a dragon with less problems,” A chuckle crept into his voice as he reminded Hawke wryly of that time in the Bone Pit. “I’ll be able to walk around properly in no time.”

Though, he was loathe to admit how much the injury truly _had_ shaken him; how...vulnerable it made him, to think that he had left himself so unguarded as to fall victim to such an easily-defensible attack... “I’ll be better when we… return to Skyhold, I think...”

*

Hawke chuckled softly, helping Fenris to stand and keeping him steady. “Mm, I’m sure. Hold onto me.” he instructed, looping an arm around the elf’s waist. His mind instantly went dirty, remembering the last time he’d gripped onto that tiny waist. Held it in both hands and held on while bent over the others back. He wallowed thickly and forced his mind out of the gutter.

He helped the other out, carefully setting him down on the stone bench they’d fashioned around the fire. Dorian perked right up when he saw the other, smiling happily before he frowned, looking away with guilt. He couldn’t get Hawkes words out of his head. He’d done this and let it happen. He cleared his throat and filled a bowl with stew to hand to Hawke when the human came to fetch it for Le-Fenris.

He kept his eyes down at his bowl, falling out of conversation between Cole and Iron Bull about what it was like to be human and in love. Or less spirit and how feelings and emotions worked. “But, how do you know what it feels like? How can you define things that are different for everyone?” the poor boy asked, clearly confused.

Iron Bull smirked. “I’ve never been in love, but I’ve been in Lust more often than not. And there are many ways we define things. Krem, only falls in love or lust when he forms a profound bond with someone. I, however, and game for anything and time.” he shrugged, looking over at Hawke and Fenris. “What of you? How did you know that you felt strongly for one another? We’re trying to explain love and other feelings to Cole now that he’s experience true anger.”

*

The fire was warm, and did, thankfully, help to alleviate some of the pain that the salve could not remove. Fenris glanced up from his bowl, having looked away when Dorian did (partly to hide his own smile at the sight of him). 

“It was different for me. Back in Tevinter, I was not _allowed_ to feel, unless it was blind devotion to my Master…” he snorted, and for a moment, his voice turned harsh - only to soften in his next breath. “But...when I realized I felt...safe,” he said, smiling the tiniest bit at Hawke. “Safe and-...like I felt like I belonged, truly and completely, for the first time in my life. That’s when I knew.”

*

Dorian gripped his bowl a bit tighter, keeping his eyes down. He couldn’t see the way Hawke would look at the elf with those words. Though he knew it was probably a bit not good going behind the man’s back without him knowing that they saw it as normal and keeping it from him entirely, he still knew he couldn’t let his face betray him. It would be a betrayal of Leto, too. 

He finished his stew and stood up to take it to the basin to clean, keeping silent even after Cole tried to engage him again. He offered a soft smile and waved at him for a second. 

Hawke watched for a moment before looking over at Fenris, taking his hand. “I couldn’t agree more. I was willing to risk my life for him before I even knew his name, actually. I just knew I had to keep him safe.” he added, kissing the back of Fenris’s hand before letting go so he could eat. 

“So... feelings of safety, willing to risk everything for someone, a sense of belonging, and... stirrings? Apart from the stirrings I feel that way with the Inquisition. I was alone and unknown and The Inquisitor brought me into the fold. And he gave me a place to live, people who know me and remember me. He keeps me safe. And I’m willing to risk my life. Does that mean I love him? Or is that different?”

*

Mahanon, who had been serving himself a second helping - and helping himself to another spoonful- spluttered and blushed in the growing twilight such that his ears burned to their very tips.

“Aha....I’m...not so sure that’s the same thing, my friend,” he said, trailing off into a wicked little smile. “-...not that I would refuse, of course, but-.....ah....it’s a bit different than that.”

Absently, Fenris gave a nod, only picking at his stew to appease Hawke than to truly sate his own hunger. “Indeed, there are many other ways to express love. Love for one’s family,” he looked to Hawke for a moment, again, “for one’s companions...for friends...even those you thought lost forever, when they suddenly reappear into your life.” The elf let his gaze fall on Cole again, and nodded, as a small smile crossed is features. “You will find your own meaning, I am sure.”

*

Hawke laughed softly as the Inquisitor blushed so brightly. “Aw, come now, Inquisitor. Have you ever felt love?” he asked, tilting his head. He tried to ignore the comment about people from your past reappearing. Cole contemplated for a moment. “If I am to become human... I need to feel love. Or do I need to be human to feel love? Why is being human so complicated? How do you stand it?” he asked, shaking his head and looking at his stew to hide behind his hat.

Iron Bull smiled and patted Cole on his back, looking over at the Inquisitor. “Be careful with this one’s heart, yeah? He’s still... so innocent.” he teased lightly, laughing even harder when the poor boy turned red under his hat. Embarrassment was a new feeling for him as well. And he stated as much.

Hawke grinned widely, not wanting to tease someone he didn’t know but glad to be a part of the group. Glad to be allowed to see this side of everyone. “The Inquisitor is right, though. It’s a bit different. Emotion runs deep. And is more complex than can be explained. As you feel it, you can define it for yourself. Part of you can feel it, or your entire being can feel it. And Love is something that you feel with your entire being, to your very soul.”

*

Fenris swallowed at Hawke’s comment, but allowed himself another small smile nonetheless. To his very soul....yes, he felt that. He felt it with his entire being, as deeply and strongly as he had his desire to be free and to belong to _himself_ \- but the question still lingered in his mind as to _whom_ it was that he loved..

“Be careful with that tongue of yours, Hawke; you could give Varric a run for his money,” he said, teasing gently to rid himself of the tension in his gut. The fire had lifted everyone’s moods...he would let them think it had done the same for him.

*

Hawke laughed and shook his head, leaning towards Fenris. “You are too kind, my love.” he teased back. “Varric would not like to hear that he has competition in the way of words. However vulgar his choice of words is.” he smirked, kissing his cheek happily.

Iron Bull smiled, nudging Cole. “That is love, Cole.” he whispered, downing his ale and standing. “I’m going to find our resident Tevinter. He seems to have forgotten that he’d confronted a bear not but a few hours ago.” he commented, humming to himself as he grabbed his axe just in case.

Hawkes smile dimmed a little at the mention of Dorian but he quickly slipped it back into place when Cole finally looked up. “I think The Inquisitors heart has already been taken. But he does not seem to mind. His heart is always partially returned. Not worse for wear at all. But it could be better. But it is a good love you share. If a bit unconventional by the standards of others.” he commented, forgetting the manners Varric and Mahanon had been trying to drill into him about not broadcasting everyone’s feelings and thoughts and memories.

*

Fenris blinked. The boy’s tendency for vague comments had only continued to confuse him, and he learned quickly that he’d no quite the same skill in deciphering hem as he had the many languages of Thedas. Something about Cole’s words struck a chord in him, but he gave a chuckle anyway.

His smile flickered when he heard Bull wander off, and realized that Dorian had made himself completely absent from their fire around the time that Cole had sparked their conversation. Fenris’ brow furrowed. He had to still his own feet from pulling himself after the Qunari and in search of the wayward magister - well aware that he was still injured - and that Hawke was right by his side.

“Well, then...” he sighed, “Shall we retire to bed? It seems that dinner has at last come to an end...”

*

Hawke hummed, taking Fenris’s bowl and setting it in the wash basin along with his own, before taking the elf’s hand and helping him up. “Have a god night, everyone. I guess we’ll be heading back in a day or so to give Fenris a bit of time to heal properly for the journey.” It would aggravate the healed over wound to have him riding horseback and they didn’t have a carriage or cart to be able to let him ride in peace either.

He helped Fenris back into their tent, helping him strip down to be able to sleep without getting too hot. “Better?” he asked, tilting his head before stripping down himself and crawling onto the cot on Fenris’s good side so he wouldn’t jostle his other leg. He placed a soft kiss to a bare shoulder before slipping his arm around his waist to hold onto him. “I thought I was going to lose you today... I don’t know what I would have done if that had happened...” he murmured softly, eyes closed against past memories of loss.

The elf shook his head, and let his eyes close. “I wouldn’t’ve let that happen, you know...” he said, sighing as his stubborn survival streak rose in him again, that same burning fire that had sustained him even when he’d fled Danarius. “Wouldn’t let a bear do that...”

Still, he couldn’t help the guilty pang in his heart at the pain in Hawke’s voice. He didn’t deserve to have _another_ taken from him like that; he’d weathered so much already...

“It didn’t. That didn’t happen today, Hawke. I escaped again. And you’re here. That’s more than I could ever ask for.” _Though without Dorian’s attempt to aid him, he knew he wouldn’t be._

*

Hawke smiled and nuzzled Fenris’s shoulder, moving to give him a soft kiss. “Good. Now, let’s get some sleep. I know you’ve rested but being unconscious does not make for decent rest.” he commented softly, settling in to sleep, cuddled around the elf to keep him warm. The Emerald Graves were kind of chilly at night if memory served right.


	13. Admissions and Emissions

Dorian, however, had avoided capture, dodging Iron Bull whenever he came close to finding him. He didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want to have someone try and find out what was wrong. He just wanted to wallow for a moment and being around a group of compassionate and kind people he was happy to be friends with, did not make for a good long self-deprecating wallow. And that’s just what he needed. 

He sat on a large boulder, looking over the river and camp, eyes never leaving Leto’s tent, gad that Hawke had been able to help. That he’d been able to fix his mistake. Why had he thought that _burning_ Leto had been the right course of action? Hadn’t the elf been through enough pain and suffering at the hands of others? And what’s worse, he didn’t know if Leto hated him or not. Trusted him with his life. Or even was grateful for the rescue. Well... Of course he didn’t _hate_ him but seeing distrust in his eyes would be worse a fate. He’d been hurt by magic, again. And by someone he had trusted.

Dorian’s face screwed up into a snarl before he let out a yell and curled up again, hiding his face in his arms to try and stave off tears that were probably going to come anyway.

*

A soft rustle rose from the bushes, and Mahanon emerged a moment later. He spied Dorian perched upon his boulder, his shoulders hunched and looking utterly _miserable_ , and frowned. He _knew_ that he was probably one of the last people the mage wanted to see right now, but he wasn’t just going to let his friend sit outside all night and _hate_ himself.

“That help at all?” he asked quietly as he came up behind Dorian. Gently, he laid a hand upon his shoulder. “You can scream louder, if you want. Don’t think anyone would fault you for that...”

*

Dorian jumped when he heard someone, or something- _please don’t let it be another fucking bear_ \- moving towards him. “Oh, um. Not as much as I’d wish it to...” he muttered as he leaned into the Inquisitors touch. He was silent for a few moments before speaking. “I almost cost him his life, Mahanon... All because I couldn’t keep my hands to myself... If I had had more control it wouldn’t have happened...”

He uncurled a little, leaning back on his hands with his feet out to give the other more room to sit. “How was he? Did he seem... I don’t know... Did he look like e blames me as much as Hawke does?” he asked, looking over at the other curiously. He knew it wasn’t fair, to put even more burdens and worries on his shoulders. He had enough to deal with between the rifts and evil mages and ancient beings trying to destroy the known world and a plethora of other bothers. But he couldn’t trust this with anyone else. He didn’t trust anyone else nearly as much as he trusted Mahanon.

And had he not met Fenris again, he’d been well on his way to falling in love with the elf.

Sometimes, the fates are cruel and unforgiving.

“How are you handling everything here? Nothing we need to collect? Nobody randomly finding us and needing assistance?” he asked, trying to deflect from his own problems.

*

“Mm...nah..” the Inquisitor hummed, grinning. “Not yet, at any rate. They take one look at Bull and turn the other way. Suppose they figure it’s not worth the trouble to get the attention of a big, burly Qunari warrior...” He shrugged, and shook his head, the teasing fading from his voice ever so much as he settled at Dorian’s side.

He leaned in, just enough to pillow his head upon the mage’s shoulder, and breathed a heavy sigh into the night air. The elf’s hand found Dorian’s and he twined their fingers in a fond and gentle manner.

“He doesn’t blame you,” he murmured. “Not that I can tell. In fact he looked rather...lost without you there. There was something of it in his gaze whenever he stared into the fire, and he was certain Hawke wasn’t watching.” Mahanon closed his eyes. “And it wasn’t entirely all on your shoulders - I think he knew what he was getting in to, else he-...well, he wouldn’t have agreed to slip off with you, isn’t that right?”

*

Dorian sighed softly, holding onto Mahanon’s hand firmly, not wanting to lose the comforting touch. He chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. “I suppose not. At least whenever you and I sneaked off we didn’t endanger lives.” he teased, looking up at the other and kissing his cheek. “You’re too kind to me. Did you know? I don’t know what I did in this life or the last to deserve someone like you in my life.”

And he was right. Though in a way it made sense. Through his contemplation of the situation with Leto, he saw it reflected with Mahanon. He may not have completely fallen heels over head in love with Mahanon, but it is a near thing. Perhaps this is what Leto felt. Like he was betraying the one person that trusted them. He felt a little sic at the thought of putting Mahanon through that sort of pain.

“Mahanon, tell me the truth... If... If Leto and Hawke hadn’t come to Skyhold... Would we have...” he couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t finish the thought.

*

The elf’s brows rose in silent question, only to furrow as he thought it over. They had grown so very close over the year they’d spent together in the Inquisition - time that, truthfully, he would have found unbearable had not Dorian been around. And now, he couldn’t even begin to imagine life without the other man in it, in whichever manner they wound up.

But....to truly contemplate such a question led him to only one response that he could give with absolute certainty. Mahanon looked up, deep into Dorian’s eyes, certain that he could see his very soul in their depths, and kissed him deeply, warmly, _lovingly_ \- and only pulled away when the need to breathe grew too much.

*

Dorian easily fell into the kiss with a groan, pulling Mahanon closer and into his lap while he returned his... His _love_. This was wonderful and terrible at the same time. He panted softly, still holding Mahanon close, his throat tight.

“I am... an awful man... To fall for two gorgeous beings that I don’t deserve in my life. And though I know I should let both of you go... I can’t find it in myself to be able to. You deserve a man better than I. And Leto deserves to be with Hawke without burden. Despite what you said that night... You are not his replacement. You never were, and you never will be. You are you, and I fell in love with you. Not the ghost of another. You are an incredible person, Mahanon... Why would you choose me?” he asked softly, one hand threaded through the elf’s hair and the other around his back, keeping him close as he looked into his eyes.

*

Mahanon found himself lost once again in Dorian’s eyes, staring deeply into them as his words washed over him like waves on the shore. They were heavy words, sorrowful - and he couldn’t stand to hear him berate himself any longer.

“Because...” the Inquisitor hummed quietly. “You give yourself too little credit...”

*

Dorian chuckled softly and shook his head. “You give me too much ‘Non. But you’ve always had faith in me. Always built me back up. Especially when my Father came for me. You defended me. And kept me from doing something I would forever regret. I was ready to kill him and you stayed my hand. You told me that I was better than him. And let me prove that I was. And you’ve been with me every step of the way since.”

He pulled the Inquisitor into another kiss, humming softly and nuzzling against his lips. He didn’t know what he’d done to have two incredible people in his life but whatever it was he was grateful. “I love you, Mahanon. I suspect I have for a long while but never let myself see it out of fear of losing you.”

*

Mahanon gave a low hum of contentment at the warmth of Dorian’s lips, and pressed himself closer into his arms. “Lose me?” he laughed, gently, and kissed him yet again, eager to take away the pain and hurt that still hung over the mage like a cloud.

“You won’t lose me...” His smile had returned, as soft and warm a light as it had always been. Mahanon knew that such words could easily be proved false at any time, out in the open or at Skyhold itself, should an assassin somehow slip past their defenses. And yet, he wouldn’t allow those thoughts to enter his mind now. Dorian needed him; and he-...he _needed_ Dorian. “You won’t lose me, _ma vhenan _.”__

__*_ _

__Dorian smiled softly, hands going to Mahanon's hips and kneading gently, needing to ground himself just a bit more. To hold onto something real and truly his and his alone. He couldn't keep this from Leto, it wouldn't be fair to any of them. He chuckled softly. "What is it with people using words that I can't understand?" he teased softly, eyes closing as he just basked in the other's presence._ _

__"How long has it been since we've just... sat beneath the stars in the country like this? We never really had a chance to while we were running around. But the Emerald Graves is pretty much covered Save for the dragon just a little to the north that we haven't tackled yet." But that wasn't something they'd come out to do. And couldn't really take care of anyways with an injured member of the party. "I do miss this."_ _

__*_ _

__Mahanon gave a nod in agreement and laid his head upon Dorian's chest. He could lie there forever just listening to the mage's soft breathing.. "As do I. I-...I can't remember how long it's been. Before Your Leto and the Champion showed up, that's for certain. The… springtime, was it? When the snow had finally thawed around Skyhold, and the skies were finally clear..."  
He sighed, and snuggled even closer. "I think this must be my favorite of the places we've traveled to. It's...very much like home, for me."_ _

__

__*_ _

__Dorian grinned widely. "Mm, that is true. I remember accidentally setting you on a small patch of snow and you squealing loudly enough to scare the birds." he laughed softly, stroking his fingers through Mahanon's hair slowly. "It is quite a lovely place. It's easily the most beautiful place we'e been. Terribly romantic, too. Unless you count the forbidden oasis to the west. But that's quite a walk through the desert."_ _

__He mused before taking a slow breath. "You haven't told me much about your life before the incident. Would you tell me? Or is it too painful to talk about?" He had only been told bits and pieces, and the same from him to Mahanon. But now was not the time to hide any longer. Now that there were feelings out in the open, Dorian wanted to know everything he was allowed. There would be a time for him to learn of Leto, but Mahanon was his focus right now. Mahanon was entirely his._ _

__Perhaps one day Leto could fully be his as well, but he wasn't. And Dorian could not pine over what he could not have. Not more than he could have with Leto- no matter _how_ much he wanted that, too._ _

__*_ _

__Mahanon laughed quietly. "It's not so painful that I don't mind retelling it. I was one of the best scouts in my clan, beaten out only by the merchant's son. We traveled here and there, trading with humans when we saw fit-..." The elf shrugged. "Contrary to what you may have heard, not all Dalish despise humans, nor do they all think themselves above them. We've managed to live quite peacefully when our paths crossed."  
He stretched out against Dorian with a sigh. "Tell me...what was your impression of me when we first met, hm?"_ _

__*_ _

__"Honestly? I feared for your life. I knew what Alexius was capable of, what he'd been trying to do. And here was this elf with daggers strapped to his back, challenging an uncontrollable mage that was trying to control time. I wanted to protect you, because all I could think was how the world would lament the loss of such a strong person. And then you proved yourself a hundred times over when we had to fight our way back to the right time. You were beautiful and moved with such grace, more than you had any right. You were beautiful and deadly and I knew in that moment that I had to follow you."_ _

__He whispered, as if it were a secret for Mahanon and him alone. Kind of how only a few people knew The Inquisitor's real name. They knew of his clan, sure. But they didn't know his given name. "And I will continue to fellow you, my love."_ _

__He relaxed for a moment. "I am afraid to ask the same question of you, though. I was recently told that I seemed like nothing more than a pompous mage. Frankly a prick, apparently." he chuckled softly._ _

__*_ _

__"Oh?" He raised his eyebrows in curiosity. "Let me guess...Hawke?"_ _

__Mahanon grinned, and then thought back to that same moment in the Chantry when he'd seen the mage at work, staff flaring with magic and eyes blazing with power. "At first, I-...well...I didn't quite know what to think. Here was this mage I'd no idea about, and doing things I'd never seen..." Not even Vivienne had been that flashy upon their first meeting._ _

__"I was....rather _intimidated_ , to be truthful." A faint blush, just barely visible in the dark, began to settle on the elf's cheeks._ _

__*_ _

__Dorian laughed and shook his head. "Leto, actually." he corrected. "Hawke hated me from the second he looked at me. I'd hugged his lover in front of him because that night at the palace was the first time I'd seen him since we'd had to leave one another behind. He already had magic ready at his fingertips. Could have lost my life I think." he shook his head._ _

__He raised a brow, sitting up a little and smirking. "Is _intimidated_ another word for _aroused_? Because I was quite... _intimidated_ when I watched you work your own magic." he teased, "You'd really never seen a necromancer before? Or at least one that did not create abominations?" True, he used a darker magic but only bound spirits to defend and attack for a short period of time. Never bound them permanently. "_ _

__*_ _

__Mahanon's smile grew. "I'd never seen one in my life; never one that wasn't power-mad and one step away from becoming a Blood Mage. You were quite the impressive sight to behold; all that power just coursing through you...I almost makes me wish I'd been gifted with such powers…"_ _

__*_ _

__Dorian shook his head. "I'm not sure it would be a good idea. Not with the anchor. But I can teach you a few things that anyone can perform. That's more about focusing energy and willing it to do something different. Mainly making plants grow. Or heating and cooling things. Nothing that can really be labelled as 'magic' since it is available to everyone that has a mind to learn." he offered, shifting to give Mahanon a soft kiss._ _

__"But I would never wish you different than you are. And if you were a mage, then you most likely would have been your Keeper's First, correct?" he asked, tilting his head before looking up at the moon peeking through the trees. "The first time I saw you in the moonlight I actually stopped breathing, did you know? You were... It was right after you'd closed a rift and all of our torches were out. You were splashed with blood- which really shouldn't have been a turn on- and your eyes were afire and your chest was heaving... You were one of the most beautiful creatures I'd ever seen. And I felt incredibly privileged to be allowed in your presence."_ _

__*_ _

__The Inquisitor's cheeks darkened even more. "Can't say I've ever heard myself described in that manner...." Mahanon mumbled, a tinge bashfully. But, so long as Dorian had been _pleased_. Though, it certainly had explained what had come next...  
"Is _that_ why you practically ambushed me in my tent when we got back to camp that night?"_ _

__*_ _

__Dorian made a show of looking contemplative before nodding sagely. "That may have been a contributing factor. But certainly not the only one. Are you quite upset with my performance, that night? I had certainly endeavored to give The Inquisitor my most eager thanks for saving us." he murmured with a lopsided grin, kissing the tip of a pointed ear._ _

__"Though I'm sure the others had a rough night trying to block out your enthusiastic acceptance of my gratitude." he teased with a soft laugh, tickling the elf playfully._ _

__*_ _

__Mahanon gave a whine as his ear was brutally assaulted - and then began to squirm as the rest of him fell under attack. "Ah! Oh...I'm sure they did....though, neither of us seemed to mind, from what I can recall aside from being fucked right into my bedroll..."  
He grinned and laughed - only for that laugh to turn into an undignified yelp as he tried to wriggle himself upright against the mage's body. "Cruel bastard, you are...messing with my ears" he teased as a shiver of pleasure shot through him at the attention paid to his poor ear, before he descended upon Dorian's neck with his lips and marking him with a kiss. "How would you like it if I went around with my hand over your _crotch_ all day?"_ _

__*_ _

__Dorian laughed and tried to move to pin Mahanon down before he was attacked in return, arching and tipping his head back to give the other more room. "Mm, if it wouldn't cause so many problems I don't think I would mind, very much." he teased back. "Though how you expect to get anything done that way I'll never know." he smirked, sucking on the tip when it came within range again. He playfully squeezed his ass, pulling him forward._ _

__"If I were to ravish you in your tent again, at least you've got a cot. You wouldn't have to fear for your knees this time. You'd get to avoid bruising them against the ground. Or even scratching your back beyond recognition and needing my rudimentary healing skills."_ _

__*_ _

__A gasp escaped Mahanon as he felt those wicked lips upon his ear again. A moan followed, and he arched, trying half-heartedly to throw Dorian off of him (but more to bring them closer together)._ _

__"You've a point there..." he breathed, when he could go a moment without laughing. "Mm... but...perhaps I want to ravish _you_ , instead?" he teased, and began working at the ties that held the mage's cloak shut around his shoulders._ _

__*_ _

__Dorian shivered a little, shrugging off the cloak when he could and dipping down to kiss the other softly. "Is that so? And how long have you imagined that? Imagined laying me down and taking me? Bending me over and having your way with me?" he asked, trailing his tongue along the length of his ear._ _

__"I find myself very much agreeable to that idea. I've often wondered myself, what you would do to me given the chance. So why don't you show me?" He purred lowly, moving to straddle the Inquisitor and rocking slowly._ _

__*_ _

__The elf shivered and arched up into the warm wetness of Dorian's tongue. " _Oh_....since the night I came to your room with wine and a bit of Varric's story to read to you..." Mahanon admitted, as he tried to get his thoughts out as his mind was quickly overtaken by pleasure. "I-...I wanted to help you feel better, feel _wanted_ and _loved_..."  
He smiled, and leaned up to catch Dorian's lips again, long and slow and heated as he rocked up against him. "On your knees," the Inquisitor purred. "Just like you had me that first night...."_ _

__*_ _

__Dorian groaned softly, biting his lower lip as he pulled up and rolled off of the other, dropping into the requested position. "You mean like this? When I pinned you down and devoured your arse until you were begging for me to fuck you? That night?" he teased back, wiggling his before pulling his cloak and bunching it so he had a pillow for when he would inevitably be unable to hold himself up._ _

__He looked back at the other and smiled softy, knowing that he was the only other person Dorian would submit to. He hoped that Mahanon knew this. Knew that he was one of two people in the whole world that Dorian trusted with everything His mind, body soul, and heart. Mahanon had helped unlock his heart again, despite how Dorian had tried to avoid love like the plague. " _Please_ , Mahanon..."_ _

__*_ _

__The Inquisitor already had a hand at his breeches, unlacing them with a swift tug. "Of course, _ma vhenan_." he murmured, leaning down to nip at the curve of Dorian's ear, just as his own had been lavished with attention. "I won't leave you unsatisfied..."  
And so saying, he moved behind Dorian and gripped his hips, rolling his own against the mage's backside. Finally, his lips moved away from Dorian's ear, and he made his way down to the tight pucker of Dorian's hole. "How badly do you want it? Hmm?"_ _

__*_ _

__Dorian hummed a little, smirking as he looked at the other. "What does that mean? I'll start talking in Tevine if you keep that up." he threatened, though the seriousness was decidedly lost with the breathlessness of his voice and the smile on his face. He arched and shivered in anticipation as Mahanon moved down his body, legs parting a little more to try and entice the elf into _getting on with it_._ _

__"Oh, Maker, you know exactly how bad I want it... I've thought about it enough to know that I want you to absolutely wreck me, to take me apart and put me back together with your tongue, your fingers, and your cock. Now if you'd kindly?" he wiggled his ass a bit again, hole tightening and loosening almost in time with the beating of his heart. He almost couldn't believe it was actually happening, having never bottomed for anyone before Leto. And he wouldn't ever do it for another besides them._ _

__*_ _

Mahanon's grin turned wicked, and he bent his head to lightly trace his tongue around the mage's twitching hole, just tasting - _teasing_. "Mm...and you've been so patient until now, _vhenan~_..." he purred, drawing out the soft sounds of his own mother tongue, so closely guarded by his people for ages. "I could wait until you've spent yourself entirely by my touch alone to tell you..."  
The elf grinned. "In fact, I think I just might. Leave you guessing - it could be something entirely _filthy_ , and you'd never know...."  
He raked his fingers down over the soft, firm globes of Dorian's ass, and settled them at his thighs as he began another circle with his tongue. 

__*_ _

__Dorian's entire body quivered with that first touch, a low whine escaping- a noise that he'd never made before. This was how Leto had felt? How was he expected to stay sane? "Mm, you'd never say anything dirty. Not in yo- _our-fuck!-_ native tongue... Gods, your tongue..." he moaned, gripping his cloak a bit tighter. _ _

__This was torture, it had to be. "Didn't think... tat the Inquisition approved of... Of torturing innocent people...” he moaned, rolling his hips to get more of that... frankly amazing sensation._ _

__*_ _

__"Mm..no? Well....there's a lot you don't know about the Inquisition, then..." Mahanon all but _purred_ as he lapped slowly at the twitching orifice, never once entering him, but drawing _so_ very close.... "You've been down to the dungeons of Skyhold, I presume?" Mahanon's eyes gleamed with impish delight as he drew yet another whine from Dorian.  
"All of those _restraints_ on the walls...they'd hold you good and tight, I bet..." A laugh escaped him as he traced his tongue down along the mage's perineum, testing to see just how much pleasure he could give him. "Would you like to be bound like that? Tied up and moaning my name as I made you come?"_ _

__*_ _

__Dorian whined again, sweat already beading on his brow and back despite the chilled air. " _Festis bei umo canavarum_..." he growled, rocking his hips back a bit more. " _Please... oh please_." he begged, sipping just a little into Tevene. He'd never been so vunerable before, and it was actually a bit heady to be in such a submissive position, to let someone have so much power over him, to not turn and demand it, but to let another take control and trust that he'd be taken care of._ _

__" _Amatus..._ I beg you... I need more...” he whispered, eyes shut against the sweet taste of pleasure, that awful amazing tease. He didn't care if it was brought by tongue or fingers or cock, he needed something inside of him, and he needed it _now_. And the growl in his throat portrayed his burning need._ _

__*_ _

__Mahanon could only groan at the utter _need_ in Dorian's voice. _ _

__" _Creators_..." he gasped. "You really _are_ desperate for it, aren't you?" A laugh escaped him, then, before he granted Dorian his wish, and plunged his tongue right inside that perfect, tight hole, humming as he did so. _ _

__"Mmmm~...."_ _

__*_ _

__Dorian nodded gritting his teeth to keep the mewls from coming out. Though that was a futile effort that went right out the window when Mahanon finally gave him mercy. And what sweet mercy it was. He let out a high ken, back arching and ass thrusting against Mahanon's mouth, face screwed up in pleasure._ _

__" _Fuck! Yes... more... please_..." He'd lost Common tongue, completely blind to anything but the tongue doing wicked, wicked things to him. His knees spread as far as they could, giving Mahanon unrestricted access to whatever he wanted, his own face pressed down against his cloak half muffling his voice. But everything that came out was clearly positive and encouraging. And by the Gods Dorian could quite easily come from just this, just having Mahanon's tongue and voice, knowing the Inquisitor was kneeling and devouring the very core of a Tevinter Mage._ _

__*_ _

__The elf's nimble tongue began to thrust in and out in long, slow strokes as he listened to Dorian moan in Tevene. The sound was damn near enough to get _him_ off as it was - his own cock was already rock-hard and dripping - but he was too busy with Dorian's ass to notice.  
Mahanon plunged his tongue deeper, thrusting the tip as far as it could go, as a shiver ran through his body when Dorian clenched down around him._ _

__*_ _

__Dorian whimpered, eyes screwed shut. " _Close... Cl_ -Close! I'm close!" he had to put together two brain cells in order to speak in a language Mahanon would understand. While it would be so very lovely to come from the others tongue alone, he would quite like coming around his cock even better. He felt empty, in a way he'd never known before Leto had first fucked him. Never knew that he'd _need_ in this way._ _

__"Mahanon..." he moaned, forcing himself up to look at the elf over his shoulder. "Fuck me... Please..." he breathed, licking his lips before pleading again._ _

__*_ _

__It took little more than the pleading whine of Dorian's voice to have the elf's prick right at his hole, replacing his tongue in an instant. Mahanon shivered at the raw need in Dorian's voice, and, without any further teasing, pressed inside in one smooth thrust. His hands found their way to the mage's hips, and he gripped them tightly as he pounded into Dorian with soft groans, in time with the sound of skin-on-skin, desperate to make the man beneath him come.  
"Come for me, _ma vhenan_..." he groaned, feeling the knot of pleasure within himself draw so tight that he might burst. " _My heart_..."_ _

__*_ _

__Dorian cried out loudly as he was suddenly filled, the burn absolutely delicious aided only with the elf's saliva. He dropped to his elbows, allowing Mahanon to fuck deeper, rocking back onto the others cock like his life depended on it. " _Ma aureum... Anima magus!_ " he cried out in Tevene, almost tearing his cloak with how tightly he held it as he came, orgasm overwhelming him and rendering him blind for a few moments, muscles squeezing Mahanon for everything he had._ _

__Dorian had barely lasted a dozen thrusts before he'd come, boneless as he tried his best to keep his hips up so Mahanon could take his pleasure. Andrastes tits that was amazing. He trembled uncontrollably, biting his lip and letting out a pathetic whimper when he felt the elf spill inside of him, felt the rush of heat fill him and scorch without burning._ _

__He collapsed on himself when he could, reaching for Mahanon and holding him close, whispering whatever came to mind. "That was... incredible, 'Non..."_ _

__*_ _

__Mahanon made a weak sort of whimper as he was pulled into Dorian's arms. He nestled close, riding the waves of his pleasure even as he felt the mage's warmth envelop him fully._ _

__"Dorian..." he gasped, turning his face to the sky and indeed seeing stars. "Creators, Dorian, that-...that was-....." A quiet moan slipped out. "That was amazing..."_ _

__*_ _

__Dorian smiled and let out a soft giggle, kissing along Mahanon's cheek. "That it was. And will bear repeating in the future." he murmured softly, running his fingers up and down Mahanon's back, the other hand buried in his hair. He wanted to stay there until they were forced to move but the air was getting colder without the blood boiling passion to keep them warm. "Shall we retire to your tent?" he asked against the elf’s hair, eyes still closed but a smile on his face._ _

__He forced himself up in order to pull his clothes back on, offering Mahanon a hand up and pulling him into a deep kiss. "Come. Let's get some rest. We can go exploring in the morning if you want. Go swimming. I'm sure you can think of an excuse to allow us to have some alone time." he teased, taking the elf’s hand and leading him away, cloak thrown over the elf’s smaller frame._ _

__"So, my heart? I like it I'm curious though, why one would tempt their heart with the promise of turning the dungeon into sex chamber if it's just a tease." he mused aloud, walking down the path- just a little funny._ _

__*_ _

__The elf just stuck his tongue out at Dorian as they walked, pressed close against his side as they meandered their way back to Manahon's tent, to a warm bed and an even warmer night._ _


	14. Desire is a Terrible Thing

Chapter 14 

The days passed swiftly enough after that, filled with hours of recuperation in bed for Fenris’ wounded leg - and even longer hours walking around and trying to put the work that Hawke had done to good use - however much his own feelings were still caught in a bind. His leg thankfully served to distract him, for the most part. It still hurt when he put weight on it, but by now it only throbbed instead of the all-consuming ache that had threatened him for days before.

And that, of course, was all for the better, because during his convalescence, the Inquisitor had, with Hawke’s aid, come upon a trail that might lead to Corypheus. Or, to one of his followers, as it turned out: a prominent Tevinter magister by the name of Livius Erimond, who’d had very dark dealings, indeed.

The moment that Fenris heard it was a magister, he’d all but demanded to come along, even if his leg had been ready to fall off. He would’ve hated to miss out on the chance to kill another one of those bastards.

*

Hawke was very adamant that Fenris stay behind and not risk his life. “No! You stay here! You can’t kill anything with your leg the way it is, still. You can’t risk it. Please, Fenris... I can’t fight with you there, knowing that you’re hindered and vulnerable to attack. I can’t have the thought of losing you in the back of my mind with every single step we take. Just... _Please_... I need you to stay here...” he pleaded as they reached the gates, hands gripping Fenris’s upper arms. He was desperate to have Fenris listen to him, desperate to keep him safe.

Some of the party had set up a little camp so there would be healing available when the leading party returned. There would be a little reprieve for them to come back to. 

Dorian knew he didn’t have any say whether the elf stayed or joined them. He didn’t technically have a claim to him. So he stuck by Mahanon, looking at him instead of Leto. “This is... Are you sure we’re ready for this? You’ll be careful, right? I’ve learned a few things but the protection spells only last so long and only protect against so much damage... I’m already worried about Leto having to stay behind and not escaping, I don’t want to have to worry about you being careless in battle. This is... much bigger than anything else we’ve faced...” he breathed so only the Inquisitor could hear him. To others, it’d look like an intimate moment between lovers- which it was but it was more than that. It was also Dorian being able to confess his fears for both of the elves that he loved. Without getting in trouble for confessing to Leto.

*

Mahanon sighed and shook his head. “It’s one man, Dorian...” Granted, that one man _had_ manage to influence the Grey Wardens, but surely it wouldn’t be hard to break his thrall, right? They’d taken down a magister before!

At the same time across the camp, Fenris glared at Hawke. “He’s got Grey Wardens under him - you’ll be no match on your own!” He couldn’t believe he was trying to keep him away after all they’d been through! “He’s a magister, Hawke, and a powerful one, from what I’ve heard. I _will_ be able to help. I won’t sit back while he ensnares _you_ as well...”

*

Hawke shook his head. “A bear almost took your life, Fenris. I won’t let him try to do the same thing. You WILL stay here. And you WILL stay safe. We all thought Bethany would be alright when we were attacked but you know what happened. And Carver joining the Grey Wardens? He’s dead now too. And neither of them were injured prior to battle. Just... Please Fenris. For my own sanity? I’m not a Grey Warden. He won’t be able to influence me as easily as them.” Not to mention the demon that will destroy the man should he try to take away the demon’s prize. Hawke was safe. Ish.

Dorian sighed and nodded, looking over at Leto and biting his lip. “I’m almost tempted to beg you to stay and watch him.” he chuckled before looking back at The Inquisitor. “One man can do many things- great and terrible. You know this as much as I do. I suppose it’s now or never?” he smiled, squeezing Mahanon’s hands in his own before turning to the quarreling lovers.

“Is it because you don’t want me to go without you, or Dorian? Is that the heart of it?” Hawke asked defeated, dropping his hands away from Fenris’s arms. “Because if it’s Dorian, I’ll do my best to keep him from getting hurt. If that’s what’s truly bothering you.” he said softly, looking away. “I just... regardless, I want you safe. Whether you want me or not.”

*

Fenris took a step back, his eyes wide as though he’d just been struck. “Hawke, that’s--” _Absolutely correct_. He stopped, finally at a loss for words. 

The mage had struck right at the heart of it, after all. He didn’t want Hawke hurt, no....and neither did he wish to see Dorian injured. But, more than that, he wanted to be the one to aid them, and keep _them_ safe, his own pain be damned.

Green eyes flicked helplessly from Hawke’s brilliant blues to Dorian’s dark orbs, and finally the Inquisitor’s eyes, which were a very mirror of his own, in a silent plea. Help him understand, he said. Make him see...

Seeing this, Mahanon loosed Dorian’s hand from his own and folded his hands behind his back.

“Champion,” the Inquisitor began respectfully, shoulders straight and formal, as though he were not interrupting something so personal. “Your assistance has been invaluable, and I truly do appreciate what you’ve done in coming to our aid. However, with such a foe as this, do you not think that we could use as much help as possible?” The elf’s brows rose curiously - almost challengingly. “There is truly no telling just how strong this Magister is, and if he can overpower the Grey Wardens on Corypheus’ command, then what’s to stop him from enthralling even you? Or even Dorian? Or,” he made a vague gesture with his left hand, causing the Mark to flicker and glow, as if reminding them all what they were up against. “..Myself? I have had companions fight at my side even when they were injured because they would not be dissuaded by anyone. I say; let him come. We have healing tents, should he have need of them.”

*

Hawke grit his teeth before turning away. “Fine. You want to risk your life and end up killed for your stubbournness then be my guest.” he shot back, stalking away to finish getting ready. He had to get away for a few moments, in reality. He let out a curse before storming into the tent, throwing himself down and hiding his face in his hands. He hadn’t meant to blow up. Hadn’t meant to yell. Hadn’t meant to make a scene. But the thought of Fenris going into battle while already injured... He shook his head, scrubbing at his face in frustration.

Dorian frowned as Hawke stormed off, walking over with Mahanon in tow. “Are you alright?” he asked softly, looking away from the tent to Leto. “Leto... Mahanon, please. You can’t let him come. No matter how I wish to fight alongside you, Leto. Go speak with him before we set off... Don’t let there be any bad blood between you... He does love you, Leto. I fear I just... Came between the two of you...” he said softly, kissing his cheek before gently nudging him towards Hawke.

He wouldn’t be able to bear it if anything happened and regrets marred all of their lives.

*

But Fenris’ lip curled into a snarl, sharp and feral, and he looked for the briefest moment as he had when he’d been on the run from Tevene and slavers alike. 

“I had not thought to hear another Tevinter try and tell me what to do,” the elf hissed. His emotions had been stirred up by the earlier confrontation, and sought an outlet wherever it was to be found. “And-...your affections were nothing that I had not wanted,” he said lowly. “If I had no interest, then, believe me, you would have known of it. And Hawke-...” he sighed. “He will calm down. It may take him a while, but he will.”

Mahanon bit his lip, looking distinctly uncomfortable - a far cry from the cool façade that he had put on as the Inquisitor. “And...Yourself? I know what I said, but-...perhaps...perhaps, you ought to give this a moment of thought, before charging blindly with us?”

He trailed off as Fenris’ steely gaze fixed itself upon him, and swallowed.

*

It was Dorian’s turn to look like he’d been struck, stepping back and looking away. He crossed his arms. “Right. Well I wouldn’t want you to confuse concern and value for your life with orders from a Tevinter.” he replied a bit coldly, turning away from the other a little. “I just don’t want anything bad to happen to anyone and the last words being exchanged were those of anger. There would be regrets all around and this is one of those battles where someone very well may die. We’re going up against Grey Wardens, wide open rifts filled with Maker-knows-what, and a maniac that has control over everyone here. 

“Certainly the odds are in our favour, don’t you agree. Whatever you choose to do, I recommend that talking to Hawke would be one of them.” he stated, bowing a little formally out of a suddenly recalled habit. “I’ll be in the Inquisitors tent should anyone need me. I need to stock up on potions and read up on my healing spells again.” he murmured, eyes downcast as he walked away. This was not going the way it should. But Dorian couldn’t begrudge Leto his anger. While yes, he completely understood the elf’s desire to participate and not sit by, he couldn’t understand his desire to risk his life a hundred times over by not being at the top of his form. Without a gimp leg and the full range of motion and grace he normally had. They hadn’t even tested to see if he could still phase through people to escape danger. And that would be Dorian’s fault if he could never use his full abilities again. If the Lyrium line had been severed and Hawke had been unable to reconnect it...

*

The elf’s nostrils flared and he turned on his heel and stalked towards the edge of camp - near enough to Hawke’s tent that he might duck inside if he wished, yet far enough away to be alone. His eyes were dark, _angry_ , and full of purpose.

Mahanon stood alone as they both left, awkwardly staring after the Tevene elf. He knew, as Inquisitor, he had the power to take Erimond with his own forces - and that he could keep _Hawke_ behind if need be - even _Dorian_. But Fenris-.....the elf truthfully _scared_ him a fair bit. All of that power and skill and the years of fear driving him - he had begun to see how others, perhaps, perceived _him_! And yet, he knew that, at this point, there was no deterring Fenris from his course, however much he had tried. The Inquisitor sighed, and turned back to his own tent to make the last-minute preparations needed to face their foe.

*

Dorian looked up as Mahanon entered the tent again, moving to him and pulling him close like he couldn’t do outside. He buried his face in the elf’s hair, breathing deeply before pulling away a little. “Fuck... everything is just so fucked with this...There’s so much shit that can go wrong here, ‘Non... And I can’t help but feel like the worst will happen. I just... Why the fuck do people fall for this kind of shit and make others clean up their mess?” he ranted a bit, stepping away and crossing his arms. 

He slouched a little. “Did you see the hate in his face when he compared me to the Magister’s in Tevinter?” he asked softly, looking at the ground for a few moments. He sat down slowly, running his hands through his hair. “I wish I could just... Summon spirits stronger than rabbits and foxes to take care of this... So none of us have to fight and risk our lives against an entire order of Orlesian Wardens and demons and crazed Magister’s...” 

*

Mahanon stared at him for a long moment, as if trying to find the right words to soothe him and take away all of his pain. Yet, despite all of his power, he could do nothing but sit at his side. “I know....” he sighed as he settled beside Dorian. “And I wish I could have handled negotiations differently, but-....there we are. Our hands have been dealt, and-....”

He ran his fingers gently over Dorian’s shoulders, smoothing the fabric of his robes beneath his touch. “We can hope, can’t we? We’ll pull through. We all will. We’re strong. He’ll calm down soon, I wager. He’ll seek you out and beg your forgiveness...” The elf nodded, even as he laid his head against Dorian’s, white hair against black. “And until then, I won’t let anyone hurt you...”

*

Dorian turned into Mahanon, an arm going around him and pulling him close. “Nor I you.” he whispered back, turning his head to kiss the top of Mahanon’s head. “We’ll get through it. Like you said.” he added, laying down and pulling the other with him to rest for just a bit. He stayed quiet, eyes closed as he just listened to Mahanon’s heart and felt his breathing. It helped calm him down. Center him a little.

He gently tugged Mahanon to sit and lay on top of him, both arms wrapping around while he stayed silent. It was only until he knew that they’d really have to get a move on that he released the other and sat up, smiling softly. “Are you ready to face all of this? Ready to go take out an evil puppeteer and cut his strings?” he chuckled, arms still around the other to sort of anchor himself in the moment, not wanting it to be disturbed.

*

The Inquisitor gave a nod and smiled warmly. “Ready if you are.” he murmured as he brought their foreheads to rest together. “The sooner we take care of him, the sooner we can return to Skyhold and get on with more important things...” Mahanon said, teasing gently as he kissed the mage. 

He knew that what they were about to go up against was but a taste of Corypheus’s shared power, just as the attack on Haven had been. But, this time they were ready; this time, they would not lose, of that he was certain.

They _couldn’t._

*

Dorian fairly purred at the implications, leaning in and licking along the Inquisitors ear slowly. “Mm, and are those important things anything like fucking you into the thick feather mattress you have in your quarters and then having you bend me over the balcony railing and fucking me where anyone could catch us if they desired to look up?” he asked, squeezing the elf’s ass before chuckling and pulling away to grab his robes and staff. 

“My Dear Inquisitor, are you ready to take down a megalomaniac who thinks he’ll have the power to take over the world? Or at the very least take out an important pawn?” he asked, bowing with all the flourish a Tevinter Altus could manage- which was quite a fucking bit. When Mahanon was ready he took his hand and led him to the tent before pushing him forward.

“Can’t have our leader following another.” he chuckled, grabbing his ass again before letting the man walk away unmolested. When he was outside he immediately looked for Leto, hating that he as coming with them but knowing he wouldn’t be the man he loved if the elf wasn’t so stubbourn and strong willed.

*

Mahanon could only grin at the images Dorian’s words conjured up, for they had been tailored, he knew, to toy with his mind -just so-. And he loved every minute of it.

Yet the seriousness in Dorian’s voice did not escape him, either. He left the tent with shoulders squared and gaze focused, searching out the other members of their party amongst the guards and soldiers at camp.

The other elf stood away from the tents, near the path that would serve as their way out, his shoulders hunched in an almost feral pose, as though the tattooed elf would leave them all then and there and walk back to Skyhold all by himself.

Not that such a thing would come to pass - though it wouldn’t surprise the Inquisitor if it did. He glanced back at Dorian worriedly; he didn’t want to see Leto do something that -if the Creators were kind - he would live to regret. Not with so much at stake. 

“Are we all ready, then?” He asked, his mask of confidence firmly back in place as he looked to each of them in turn.

*

Hawke stepped out of the tent when he heard everyone getting ready to head out, pack strapped to his back, Fenris’ in his hand at his side. He glanced around and spotted the shock of white hair and headed over, silently offering the elf’s pack to him. “Look... I’m sorry. You’re still injured and I don’t want you hurt. So... Will you stick by me while we travel? So I don’t have to worry about losing you?” he asked softly, silently pleading with the elf to concede to at least that. Damn, stubbourn pride...

Dorian watched as the scouts and soldiers that had come along started breaking down the camp, some of the men getting ready to take nonessentials back towards Skyhold and the rest getting the abnormally large Nugs saddled and ready to go forward. Dorian had to hand it to them, they were really good at packing up camp and unpacking it as well. “I believe we’re all set to go, _Amatus_.” he whispered the word so only Mahanon would hear, smiling softly. “I’ll bring your steed to you, though I still think you’d look better on a Hart rather than this beast you insist on riding.” he teased, picking up his own pack as well as Mahanon’s so the other wouldn’t have to worry about it. It’d give the Inquisitor more time to check over things that needed to be checked.

One less thing for Mahanon to worry about, the better. He had so much going on already.

*

Fenris’s shoulders drew even tighter at Hawke’s plea, and yet, despite his now near-instinctive urge to shut him out, just this once, the elf could not refuse. After all, there was no telling what this magister had waiting for them.

At the very least, he wouldn’t put up a fight any longer. 

“I won’t leave your side.”

Mahanon watched the exchange closely, curiously, as he stood nearby. “I can’t help it; I like the way it looks,” he quipped back, eager to switch topics. “Besides, _everyone_ expects to see me on a hart - or, even _better_ ,” he grinned. “A Halla. Because that’s just so _original_....”

A bit of levity before going to what might be certain doom never hurt anyone - and it certainly hadn’t hurt him yet.

*

Hawke’s shoulders relaxed with the relieved breath he let out, though he didn’t try and press his luck by reaching out to touch the elf. “Thank you. Do you need any help getting on your horse?” he asked, following behind the elf- assuming his original ‘puppy’ prose from when they’d first met. It certainly felt like he’d regressed to that stage. Hawke trying to prove himself and Fenris trying to pretend he didn’t need anyone, least of all a mage.

“The scouts say it’s a few days march to Adamant... Do you have the salves you need? Or do you need more?” he asked, bringing his own horse over by Fenris to pack his things to it.

Dorian laughed and shook his head, raising a brow. “I’d see you astride other... animals. But I can only imagine how you would look in the sunlight by a creek or waterfall, naked and bareback on that Golden Halla we saved a while back.” he teased with a lewd grin, eyes sparkling.

“I can’t deny it, though. These things- though ugly- are quite sturdy. They can carry more than a horse and trek longer and farther than a Halla and a hart. But what about those dragon things? I forget what they’re called. Look like giant lizards. Teeth.” he wiggled a couple of fingers in front of his mouth. “Terrifying things that look like death. Now that is a sight. We should get you dressed up in your best clothes and put the scariest armour we can on the beast and send you to Val Royeux to deal with those ninnies for negotiations of supplies.” he smiled broadly.

Hawke looked over at the other two, brows furrowing before he looked away. He was envious of such open affection. How easy it was for the two of them to be together, even out in the open. He didn’t begrudge Fenris his desire for privacy. Nor did he begrudge him the distance that had grown between them since Dor- joining the Inquisition. A lot of unfamiliar faces, a painful reminder of a past, and one familiar friend.

*

Fenris shook his head. “I’ll be fine,” he said shortly. Yes....he would be. He’d wanted to come along; he would prove that he wouldn’t be a burden on _any_ of them - least of all Hawke or Dorian. He would take care of things. He would-- the elf grit his teeth to hide a wince as his leg gave a twinge, but he did not falter or stumble.

If he was in a more fit state, he would have even suggested that _Hawke_ ride while _he_ walked beside, as he had done years before when they ventured to Sundermount, or went patrolling with Aveline along the Wounded Coast.

How much things had changed since then; and yet, not at all.

At his mention of ‘scary-looking giant lizards with teeth’, Mahanon’s face brightened. “Dracolisks!” he said cheerily. “Oh, yes, that _would_ be a sight! ‘I am the great and powerful Inquisitor; refuse me and I’ll feed you to my dragon!” He burst out laughing as he climbed astride the giant Nug he’d saddled, and brushed hair out of his eyes as he shot a wink down to Dorian. “I imagine we’d not have any more trouble with them after that....”

*

Hawke made sure Fenris didn’t fall off without touching him, watching carefully before attaching the other supplies he had collected for the two of them, not wanting to need them and not have them close by. “Are you hungry? Do you need anything to eat?” he asked, checking over their stocks in one of the saddle bags and then checking over the canteens. “I know you don’t want me to fuss... But until you’re fully healed I’m going to be like this. Normally you’re up and running around again after just a few hours but Anders was a much better healer than I am and you wound wasn’t healed over properly the first time. 

“So please, stop being all prickly and talk to me? _Please_? I can’t stand this distance that’s grown between us and I know it’s my fault somehow- that’s how it always goes. I say something and fuck everything up. So, will you forgive me for being an idiot? Before we march to what is most likely the end for a lot of people here?”

Dorian smiled and laughed, shaking his head. “The beast would most likely give them all a fright. Wouldn’t have to deal with a couple of them at all after that but, well. The Inquisitor was only testing the limits of his new steed, after all. How was he to know that it would scare a couple of old ladies to death?” he stated woefully, climbing onto his own Nug and settling in, wiggling a little to get his clothes to sit around him.

He looked over at Leto and caught his eye, offering a soft smile and a wave to the elf before looking away, not wanting to draw attention to the fact he’d been watching the other elf. No need to piss Hawke off any more than he already was. “As much as I hate to meddle... How do you think we could diffuse the situation with Leto and Hawke? I don’t want there to be any regrets for anyone should anything happen...”

*

“Hawke--” Fenris sighed, and shifted in the saddle to look at him. He hated being fussed over - but he hated hearing the self-loathing in Hawke’s voice even more. How could he explain to the man that it wasn’t his fault? It never was...it just- _happened_. And now he sought forgiveness for something that didn’t even exist.

“...I’ll forgive you, if that’s what you want,” he said quietly. “Though there’s nothing to forgive.”

At the same time as Dorian spoke, Mahanon caught the tail end of Hawke’s plea and gave a hum in thought as he gripped his nug’s reins. “That’s quite the question....maybe we-....” he frowned. “Ah.....you know, I don’t really know, come to think of it. Everything I can come up with ends with them finding out we gave them a little _shove_...”

*

“I’m fairly certain that’s how they ended up together in the first place, actually.” he chuckled. “He hated mages, and Hawke was always chasing after him. If the stories that Varric wrote about them are to be believed and hold any amount of truth. Dubious. I forget exactly how it happened but one thing led to another and they ended up falling into bed with one another... He still wears the favour he took.” he stated softly, glancing over at the red fabric still tied around Leto’s wrist. He hadn’t taken it off not even once since he’d found him again. Though it did look ready to fall apart at the slightest agitation.

“Thank you, Fenris. When this is all over, do you want to stay in Skyhold? Or find a home elsewhere?” he asked, taking up the reins and leading the horse over so he could grab more of what they needed, buying time with Fenris until they were called to fall out. “I don’t think I’d mind staying in Skyhold. We have made friends. And we have a very nice room. Unless you want another place. As long as I’m with you I’ll follow anywhere.”

Dorian tipped his head back before bringing his Nug over to Mahanon. “If you want, I can give you a little shove later, instead. Or you can shove into me. I’m always up for anything you fancy. You know that.” he teased, clucking his tongue before heading to the front of the camp that was almost completely paced up and dispersed between that was going with and what was going back.

*

“Skyhold...” Fenris murmured, looking back at camp - and at _Dorian_. At Skyhold, he had found camaraderie - he had found _home_ , more than he ever had in Seheron, or even in Kirkwall, at Hawke’s estate. “I would like to remain at Skyhold, if we are welcome...” he said quietly.

He didn’t want to go.

Mahanon grinned at Dorian’s figure -even seated on a _Nug_ of all beasts- and glanced over at Fenris and Hawke for one moment as the last of the camp was dismantled. “Oh, yes!” he called, laughing. “Perhaps we’ll shove each other!”

Hope rose in the Inquisitor’s breast. Even with their stumbles, he had little doubt that they would be victorious.

*

Hawke smiled and nodded. They wouldn’t have to try and find a new place to settle in, then. One where they wouldn’t receive strange looks for being an elf and a human in a relationship together. There wasn’t any judgement here, the Inquisitor being the most powerful one in the place kind of made people rethink how they viewed elves. Not to mention the fact that a Tevinter and an elf were clearly seeing one another.

They would be accepted here. “Then when this mess is over with, we’ll make our home in Skyhold.” he agreed, looking up at the elf and gripping his knee gently for reassurance. For Fenris or for himself, he didn’t know but it was reassurance nonetheless.

Dorian snorted, leering at the elf. “Is that even possible? To shove each other at the same time? Can’t see how. But if you insist,” he gave a faux long-suffering sigh, “I _suppose_ we’ll attempt to see if it’s possible.” he looked around the camp as well, sitting up a bit straighter. “Let’s head off to the wicked king’s castle and knock that gaudy crown off his head.” he proclaimed, more for his own amusement.

*

Mahanon smirked at Dorian and spurred his Nug onward. Oh, ye of little faith.... “Yes!” he grinned. “And then home, for a proper rest!”

If nothing else, he could give that sense of hope to his men, when nothing else remained.

He dug his heels into his nug’s side, and moved to the front of the group, eyes alert for anything that might spring out to greet them - of which, there was none, of course. Even several hours in, the road was clear - almost.... _too_ clear.

*

Dorian followed behind Mahanon, unabashedly watching his ass as they made their way westward. “So, what’s the first thing you wish to do when we return home? Throw a banquet and invite all of the residents and nobles from around the land? Break in the new bed that I know you’ve ordered when I mentioned wanting to see you twirl around one of the four posts when we investigated that ruined castle? Dress up and prance around the courtyard?” he teased, making sure to keep close but always remain behind the Inquisitor as to not appear presumptuous about his position.

They hadn’t made an official announcement but it may as well have been the night before when he’d ridden the elf into his cot. He’d tried to stay quiet, really he had. And he was thankful that Hawke and Leto’s tent was far enough away that they probably hadn’t heard them or thought it was possibly another tent. 

“I wouldn’t mind talking about what’s between us more seriously when we return. While, yes, Leto will always have a part of me, nothing can happen seriously with him while he’s still with Hawke. And I would still love to see the two of you in action. But I can’t keep this up forever. Having my heart being pulled in two directions. When we get back, we’ll have to talk about what to do. Make final decisions and what not.”

*

Mahanon gave a soft hum at Dorian’s request and nodded, as though he were merely taking advice. Which, in a way, he was. He knew, and rightly too, that to continue in such a manner would utterly tear Dorian’s poor heart in two.

“We’ll talk, then. We’ll figure it out.” he nodded. 

It would give him something to focus on, if things were to go wrong, at least. “Perhaps we could even mention it to Leto?” he suggested, voice low. “Provided, of course, they return to Skyhold...”

*

Dorian fell silent for a few moments, thinking about the situation he’d gotten himself into; falling in love with two people. Two incredible and wonderful and loving people that he couldn’t possibly choose between. But he had to, if Leto stayed with Hawke. Even if he didn’t. It would be easier to figure things out if the three of them spoke, but he didn’t think that Leto would want to. Which made the whole situation harder for Mahanon and himself. 

He looked back to find Leto, watching Hawke ride a horse that wasn’t his in order to give the elf the better saddle, riding close to the other in order to hold a conversation. Or rather ramble while Leto listened. Or didn’t, based on the look that graced the beautiful face. The mage looked back to their leader, knowing that choosing him he would be given his entire heart, everything that Mahanon had would be given to Dorian. While Leto could only give part of himself, stolen moments in alcoves and the spare room at the tavern. 

He made his decision then. While he desperately loved Leto, the elf belonged to Hawke, and Hawke to him. Mahanon would belong to Dorian, and Dorian alone. And he to the Inquisitor. He took a breath, deciding to keep it to himself until they reached Skyhold again. It would be another thing for them to celebrate. “I promise this talk won’t be one that upsets anyone.” he stated softly. “You needn’t worry about it.”

*

Mahanon looked back at him, and smiled. 

Finally, the arduous, _monotonous_ journey yielded some clues; hoof-prints in the dirt where horses had been ridden, divots where spikes had been planted in for tents. Even scorch-marks from thrown magic! Yet, sign of the magister himself, they found none...

With a frown, Mahanon slid down from his mount and strode towards the abandoned site. The only thing remaining was a stone that looked to have been carved entirely with runes, and laying innocently on the ground.

*

Dorian slipped from his own steed, following Mahanon curiously. Hawke did the same behind them, pulling Fenris from his mount as well- knowing he wouldn’t enjoy being the only of this party left on a mount, and walking forward to investigate as well. Dorian peeked around the Inquisitor when he stooped to pick something up, eyes widening as he recognized the runes a bit too late. “Mahanon! No!” he reached out to grab his hand away but wasn’t in time.

He was thrown back as several demons were summoned from the runes activated by touch, groaning as he got to his feet and pulled his staff. “Fuck... I _hate_ runes...” He watched a Pride demon as it came closer, stepping closer to Iron Bull and Mahanon.

Hawke had been too far from Fenris to be able to get to him before two demons separated them, a Rage demon faced him, and a Desire demon faced Fenris. He grit his teeth, pulling his winter abilities to the front of his mind to battle the demon quickly, needing to get to his love.

*

At once, Fenris raised his sword, ready to cut the monster down. It wasn’t the first time they’d battled demons, and he had a suspicion that it wouldn’t be the last on this journey. He swung, his sword-strike true (if a bit wobbly)--

\--and missed. 

The demon vanished, only to reappear behind him, laughing.

*

The Desire demon grinned widely, licking her lips as it stalked closer. “Oh, you have much you desire, little elf... I can give you what you truly want, if you wish it.” she purred, staying just out of range of the warrior’s blade. “You think you can best me when you’re so weak? Wounded?” she asked, tilting her head, continuing to stalk around him in a circle, and carefully bringing him farther away from the group. 

Dorian and Hawke couldn’t focus on Fenris while trying to fight the demons, though they couldn’t help but look over helplessly. There wasn’t anything they could do until they defeated these others. It was slow going but a sure thing. Just not enough to be of service.

She looked over her shoulder and smirked widely. “Oh, little elfling has _two_ suitors? But who do you desire more?” she asked, throwing her hand out and surrounding Fenris with a cloud of pink miasma. “Let’s have you choose then.” she called, cackling when she warped the elf’s vision, changing the battle field to one of victory, the party having won and slain all of the demons. Hawke and Dorian stood on opposite sides, chests heaving before looking over at Fenris and scrambling over themselves to reach him. 

“Fenris!” “Leto!” they called, Dorian blushing and looking over at Hawke as the larger mage gave him a narrowed look. “Since when did you learn his real name?” he asked, pausing for a moment before looking back to the other. “Fenris, are you injured?” he asked, stepping closer and holding out his hand.

*

Fenris’s eyes widened at them both, and all he could do was shake his head. “N-no...” he said quietly. “No, I’m not hurt. I’m alright. But, you--?”

The elf paused, eyes fixed on Hawke’s hand, before he met Dorian’s eyes, and saw him mirroring Hawke. He took a step back. Eager hope shone in Dorian’s eyes, and so too was it present in Hawke’s. “..You’re both alright. I was-....” he blinked again and shook his head. “I was worried....”

*

Dorian smiled and went to step forward, but stopped as he was halted by Hawke. “You don’t have to worry about him. I’ll take care of him. Just, go on and do whatever you do by yourself.” Hawke snapped, walking over to Fenris and taking his hand, accidentally rubbing the red ribbon around the lithe wrist. 

“I have just as much a right to be concerned as you do! Leto... Please tell him...” he pleaded, watching Hawke with a glare. Hawke shook his head. “No. You don’t have any claim to him.” he growled, standing between Fenris and Dorian. “You’ve chosen the Inquisitor. You had your chance with him, but he chooses me, as I him.” he stated calmly, reaching back and taking the elf’s hand again, further rubbing the favour.

“That’s not true! I choose Leto, every time. The only reason I was with the Inquisitor was because I couldn’t bear the loneliness. He was a placeholder for Leto, nothing more.” 

“And I’ve never once strayed from his side.” Hawke countered.

*

Fenris clapped his hands to his ears and grit his teeth as pleas came at him from both directions. First Hawke, strong and commanding; and then Dorian, soft, insistent, pleading. He could hardly think straight, much less make such a decision.

“I-...I don’t-...I _can’t_ \--!”

*

Hawke paused, looking back at Fenris. “You... You can’t choose? But, what about everything we’ve _been_ through together? Our love... I gave you this...” he said softly, taking the elf’s hand in his own and running a finger over the favour, gasping when it finally broke and was whisked away by the wind. He watched it with a pained expression. “That means nothing. My heart is still yours. A strip of fabric was only a reminder for you.” he whispered softly, cupping his face.

Dorian growled and stalked closer. “Yes, you gave him a scrap of fabric that you most likely tore from your tunic but I showed him pleasure. I gave his body life, gave him a drive to escape. I showed him how love and pleasure are supposed to feel. He didn’t hate me at first sight. He came back to me at the Winter Palace. And we made love- I gave him my own virginity that I’d saved for _him_. That means more to him than a mere trinket of affection.” he gently pulled Leto away. “I love him. I love you with every fiber of my being, Leto.” he whispered, trailing a hand down the elf’s bare skin. 

Because they were merely shades, illusions, the Lyrium didn’t react, didn’t sing- couldn’t without the touch of a true mage. “Please, choose me, Leto. And I will provide anything you desire, love you unconditionally. I will even if you don’t choose me but I hope dearly that you do.”

*

Fenris stared as ‘Dorian’s hand brushed along his skin, and for a moment, fell into the illusion himself...until his tattoos failed to glow. Again, he squeezed green eyes shut, and again he tried to block them out.

“Stop-... _stop_! You’re not real...you can’t be-...”

They both knew things he hadn’t told either of them, things locked deep within his heart, and yet, even so, the situation remained the same; and just as before...he _couldn’t_ choose, aloud. Even if they were mere illusions.

“Why can I not have you both..?” he rasped, though he knew that answer well enough. His heart could not be split in twain without tearing his body along with it. His heart said _Dorian_ , while his head screamed _Hawke _, and he pulled away from them both again, wild-eyed. “Get _away_!”__

__*_ _

__The two mages stumbled back, eyes wide. “You... You don’t want me?” Hawke asked softly, still reaching out. Dorian merely sneered and straightened, assuming the role of Altus. “Fine. I’m not going to _lower myself_ and beg for affection from a former _slave _.” he spat, turning to the vision of Mahanon that had appeared- merely to aid the demon in breaking the elf.___ _

____“Mahanon is twice the person you are, _Leto_. And he would never deny me the way you constantly do.” The shade spit at the ground, an arm snaking around the Inquisitors waist and pulling him away. _ _ _ _

____Hawke stayed, breathing harshly and looking at the ground. “Fine then. I save you from yourself, give you purpose after you tried to squander your sanity away with wine. Give you a home and friends and love, and you still can’t choose me. Well, I’m not going to stick around and be second best. I’ve been second- and third- to my mother for years before she died, trying to make up for not being fast or strong enough to save Bethany or Father, and then Carver. I can’t even be enough for you. So why should I bother?” he stated softly, straightening up to try and look stronger than he felt given the speech._ _ _ _

____“I’ll leave you alone. You seem to want it enough.” he turned on heel, “All you had to do was choose, and we could have been happy together.”_ _ _ _

____The vision was suddenly ripped away as Hawke set the desire demon on fire, the things screams destroying whatever web she’d created to give Fenris the look of... Anguish and betrayal and... Hawke couldn’t bear to see it on his face anymore. He only hoped that Fenris chalked the freely bleeding slice down his arm was from fighting- and not from anything else._ _ _ _

____He hadn’t the power to save Fenris, so had called upon the one thing he swore he’d never use again. But the Demon had been closing in on the elf that had been paralyzed with whatever vision he was seeing._ _ _ _

____“Fenris!” he screamed, finishing the demon off and running to his side, arms going around him tightly. The lines flared up in defense, but Hawke paid no mind to the burning sensation, knowing that he’d likely have burns in the shape of Fenris’s tattoos along his arms and part of his chest. “Fenris, please speak, say something... Let me know you’re alright...”_ _ _ _

____*_ _ _ _

____The elf’s eyes were glassy and wide, and didn’t even seem to comprehend the vision being destroyed around him. It was only when he felt strong, powerful arms around him, and felt the wet, stickiness of _blood_ that he came back to himself at last._ _ _ _

____“H-Hawke...?” Fenris breathed. His voice was tight with fear, and tinged with disbelief; how could he believe his eyes now? If it was another torment, it was even more solid than before..._ _ _ _

____And yet, he met Hawke’s gaze, and saw there the same fear as he felt - and that the _other_ ‘Hawke’ had not. “ _Hawke_....I-...” Fenris made a quiet sound of relief and all but sagged right into the mage’s iron hold as his thoughts came pouring from his lips far too fast to keep track, like a river running wild. “I was too weak. I saw-....I-- they wouldn’t stop. You said---you--...didn’t want to bother anymore. I wasn’t worth it. I wasn’t _worth it_ \---....”_ _ _ _

____*_ _ _ _

____Hawke shook his head, clinging to Fenris tightly, probably tighter than he should have but he didn’t care. He needed the other to know that he was safe. That Hawke was going to protect him, even if his staff lay forgotten at their feet. “No, never. I would never say that. I swear. You’re worth every coin and jewel in the world, more so even. You’ve been through so much and you’re still strong. I love you. You’re safe. I’ve got you...” The words coming out as assurance for both Fenris and himself, chest rattling a little with holding back sobs._ _ _ _

____“I don’t know what she made you see... But she didn’t die slowly enough to pay for the look she put on your face, love...” he whispered, kissing the side of the elf’s face before cupping his chin and kissing him softly. “I shouldn’t have left your side. I’m sorry. You wouldn’t have been alone if I hadn’t walked too far...”_ _ _ _

____Dorian watched the scene from his newly dead foe, the last to fall. He’d stayed beside Mahanon when they’d been surrounded, Hawke being the only one to be able to reach the tattooed elf at all. He looked away, eyes burning and throat tight. He hadn’t been able to save him. Of course, that made everything easier for everyone. Hawke had secured his rightful place beside Le-... Fenris. Dorian didn’t have the right to his name anymore. Not after having failed so spectacularly to save him. And Mahanon from the initial trap. Had he been fast enough it could have been avoided._ _ _ _

____“I’m sorry... I should have seen it coming... It was too easy to find the camp. Everything was too perfect...” he breathed, turning to the Inquisitor. “Are you badly injured? Do you need help getting to a healer?” he asked, taking his hand and helping him from the ground._ _ _ _

____*_ _ _ _

____Fenris only looked at Hawke, eyes still fearful - but only for what might come. What yet remained....?_ _ _ _

____At the feel of his lips, he pressed himself fully against Hawke, as tightly as he could, gripping tight to broad, powerful shoulders. He wanted to forget, to wipe from his mind all of the doubts, the fears and insecurities that the demon had dragged to the surface._ _ _ _

____“I’m fine...” Mahanon grunted in reply, even as he leaned against Dorian for support. “’m....fine...” For a moment, he sounded almost like Fenris. Until, that was, he, too caught sight of what had rooted Dorian to the spot and stilled his tongue. A soft sound of consolation left him, and he gripped Dorian’s hand even tighter. “.....are _you_ alright, _lethallin _?”___ _ _ _

______*_ _ _ _ _ _

______Hawke easily took Fenris’ weight, holding him close and fairly devouring the other, desperate to keep this connection. This anchor to reality. He loved this elf, this man... And he needed Fenris to know it to his very soul. That Hawke would do anything to keep him happy and safe._ _ _ _ _ _

______Dorian shook his head, turning his full attention to the other. “I’ll be alright. This makes everything easier. The talk I wanted to have with you... Was going to be about how to tell Le- Fenris that I have made the decision for him. That I’ve chosen you and want a full and happy life with you.” he said softly, holding the Inquisitors hands in both of his own. “I don’t have to worry about how he’ll react to the news, now.” he added with a soft smile._ _ _ _ _ _

______“My heart is yours, Mahanon.” he breathed, kissing his forehead gently. “You’re sure you’re alright, _amatus_? You don’t need a mage with rudimentary healing abilities to feel you over for any hurts?” he teased softly, putting his arm around Mahanon’s waist and holding him close for support._ _ _ _ _ _

______*_ _ _ _ _ _

______The elf clung to him as though his life depended on it, digging his fingers in wherever they could find purchase. He wouldn’t let Hawke go; not now. Not ever. In his mind, he’d chosen....and his heart had begun to agree. Whatever similarities he and Dorian held; whatever their bond - whatever bind of fate brought them here, Fenris _still loved Hawke_. And he wanted him to know._ _ _ _ _ _

______Softly, Mahanon began to laugh, “Mm...I’m sure...” Though he would not deny, the idea did torment him terribly. “When we settle in for the night, however. Well, there’s still much to do. I fear I may require your aid _then_...” The Inquisitor winked, squeezing Dorian’s hands even more tightly. For all that Dorian’s words lifted his heart, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge, even when he looked over and saw the other pair of lovers locked in an embrace as though their lives would end if they broke for breath._ _ _ _ _ _

______He shook his head, smiled, and rose up to kiss Dorian properly, before he drew away. “Come, then. Let’s check for traps, and see if we can’t commandeer this place for a night.”_ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fully caught up.


	15. Reconciliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're back!

Dorian smiled and followed Mahanon through the camp, helping them put up tents and set up the healing kits to take care of the minor injuries from the battle. There were a few people that had gotten injured and needed assistance and Dorian could help out. “Will you stay with me? Or do you want to retire to your tent?” he asked, looking at the small group of people that had gathered to have minor injuries mended. He could honestly leave the trained healers to it, especially considering how badly he’d botched the last job. He shook his head. “Nevermind. It’s been a long day and I’m actually quite exhausted and of no use to anyone...” he stated, offering his hand to Mahanon to bed down for the night in their tent. 

Hawke stayed beside Fenris through the erection of the camp, keeping skin on skin contact the entire time. He didn’t want to lose the other and risk him being cornered. Though he knew, logically, that they were safe. When their tent was set up he pulled the elf inside, standing in the middle and holding him closely.

“Do you want to talk about what happened? Or would you rather forget?” he asked softly, carefully unstrapping Fenris’ pauldrons and bracers, setting the armour aside carefully, eyes never leaving the elf's.

Fenris held Hawke’s gaze, his eyes large in the  soft warm light of their tent. He didn’t move as he felt the straps of his armor loosened and pulled away, just wanting to feel Hawke near him, to ground him and give him a sense of being.

For a moment, the elf wished that he hadn’t remembered his past at all.

“...I want to forget...” he murmured, running his fingers along Hawke’s arm as he pressed himself closer still, able to feel the warmth of the other man against him. “ _Please_....help me forget....”                        

Hawke nodded, cupping Fenris’ face and kissing him deeply, taking his time to re-explore the elf's mouth, hands sliding down his nack to his chest piece fastenings, removing that and then his gauntlets, lacing their fingers together. “I love you.” he whispered against his mouth, hands sliding up his arms to tease the Lyrium. 

The mage gently pulled away to remove the rest of the elf's armour before starting in on his own, dropping everything around them before carefully picked up the other. Hawke kissed down Fenris’s neck, settling him on the bed once he’d walked them over. Small clothes were carefully removed and each inch of tan skin revealed was licked and kissed, fingers sliding over it and wiping away the pain from the day.

Instead of protesting, Fenris lay there, watching Hawke, focused entirely on him - and _only_ on him. He stretched out beneath him, head tilted back, and bared his throat to him, utterly submissive, pliant, and desperate to be wrapped in the mage’s warm embrace. “I love you, too...” he gasped, looking up at him.

Hawke smiled down at the naked elf, leaning in and kissing him softly. “Stay here.” he whispered, moving to the bowl in the middle of the tent He picked it and a clean cloth up, bringing both to the bed. He dipped the cloth into the water and rung it out before carefully washing Fenris of the grime from the battle, wanting to taste only him.

He quickly used the cloth and water to wipe himself down, tossing it aside before descending upon his elf again, sucking on his neck and chest, teasing a nipple and swirling his tongue around his naval. He hadn’t done this very often, perhaps once or twice in their relationship, but he felt that he needed to do everything to reaffirm to Fenris his love and loyalty. Besides, Fenris did this to _him_ often enough.

He licked up the length of the elf's cock, tongue following the line of lyrium to heighten the elf's sensation, before sucking the head into his mouth, using only his tongue for pressure for a few moments. He moved down, slowly taking more before he had to stop, not even half of Fenris’ cock in his mouth before he had to hold back a gag.

Fenris bit back a groan and squeezed his eyes shut as Hawke’s mouth descended upon him. Even only half-inside, his touch alone was enough to set Fenris’s body alight, lyrium brands glowing brightly in the dark as he maned, and arched his hips, canting them upwards into the warm wet sheathe of Hawke’s mouth. 

“Hawke....”

Hawke wrapped a hand around what wasn’t in his mouth, stroking opposite of the movement of his head. He groaned softly, moving to lick down one side of the glowing shaft, free hand gently kneading his sac. He only pulled away again to grab the sword oil, slicking his fingers p before pressing one into his elf, going slowly while he sucked his length again.

Hawke gripped and gently squeezed the expanse of flesh not in his mouth, finger easily gliding in and out of Fenris’ hole, mouth sucking hungrily at him. “So gorgeous...” he whispered when he pulled off for air, tongue swirling around the head before he took as much as he could again, humming as his tongue tingled again from the Lyrium.

The elf’s eyes squeezed shut at the flood of sensation that washed over him, unable to keep his eyes open though he desperately wished to. He muttered a curse in Tevene and thrust his hips upwards, unable to help it, as his body responded, fairly burning to feel Hawke in every way that he could. To make up for all of the time lost.

“ _More_...” Fenris groaned. “Please, Hawke, _please_...I need you..”

Hawke aimed to please, and if Fenris was desperate, Hawke was willing to speed the pace up a little. A second finger joined and then a third, not too long after. The mage used a fourth finger just for good measure before shifting, bringing Fenris into his lap and holding him close. The residual oil went to his own aching prick before he lined the two of them up.

“Anything for you, Fenris. I’m all yours.” he breathed, helping Fenris onto him while he gripped his hips tightly. He watched Fenris’ face, groaning in satisfaction. They hadn’t done this in so long, Hawke had been worried that Fenris was going to leave him. But they were here now. They were together in the most base of ways. Their bodies becoming one, breath mingling, sweat sliding together. He rocked slowly, keeping Fenris from bouncing. For now. He wanted to savour it. Wanted to savour how it felt to finally be inside of the other again after going so long without, going so long with the fear that he was going to be left again.

Fenris groaned as he felt the firm press of Hawke’s cock, and that familiar, achingly-wonderful all-encompassing warmth. He shuddered, and wrapped his arms around Hawke’s strong shoulders, for fear that he might grow overwhelmed and spend himself too soon. Slow, languid, loving, just as it used to be. 

He wanted it to never end.

Hawke panted lightly against Fenris’s mouth, hands roaming over his body as he slowly rocked against the elf, taking in everything he could about the moment and the man that held his heart. It wasn’t rushed, like most of their joinings had been. It was like their first time, all over again. He could remember it like it was yesterday, how desperate they’d been at first until they’d slowed down. 

The mage watched Fenris for a few moments, pulling his hips slowly and smiling up at him. “I love you.” he whispered, kissing him softly, sweetly. It felt like a goodbye and a hello at once. Like this was the last time they were going to be able to be together like this. His heart ached with it; the bittersweet movements. And he only picked up the pace when he needed to, so his heart would stop hurting with the slow lovemaking. He loved it and hated it at the same time. He _hated_ how it felt like he was saying goodbye. Like they were saying sorry for things they couldn’t control. 

He grunted softly, spreading his feet a little to get better leverage.

“And I love you...” murmured Fenris when they parted for breath. He held Hawke’s piercing gaze, and smiled as h saw in his eyes love..regret..fear. Fear for something that might never again be. He surged up and caught him in another kiss as he clenched around him, urging him, soothing him.

 _I love you_ , it said. _I love you...and I always will._

Hawke held Fenris close, carefully rolling the two of them so they didn’t fall off the cot and didn’t disconnect. His answering kiss returned all of his own feelings, one hand planted on the cot beside Fenris’ head and the other now hooked under his knee to spread him open more, to get more of him, to see more of him.

His hips picked up a little more, rocking the cot a bit more noticeably, breathing speeding up. “Fenris... Perfect... You’re perfect...” he moaned softly, mind zeroed in on everything that was Fenris. The light from his Lyrium, the heat of his body against his own, the wet tightness around his prick, the weight of the elf's prick pressed against his stomach. He’d almost lost this. Almost lost his love. He thrust a little faster, growling a bit at the thought. He wouldn’t let that happen to him again. Wouldn’t let Fenris get caught like that ever again. “Mine...”

Fenris cried out against the pillow, and his Lyrium flared brightly as pleasure coiled tightly in his gut. “Hawke...” he groaned, and cried out again as he felt himself approaching his climax all too soon. His fingers dug into the mage’s shoulders, arms wrapping around his neck as he tried to keep him there, with him. “H- _Hawke_....”

By now, Hawke was pounding into the other, devouring his mouth as well as his body. “ _F-fenris_... Come for me, please...” he groaned, climaxing not to long after the other, hips stuttering in their rhythm as he filled the elf. He slowed to a stop, panting heavily and propping himself up. He stared down at Fenris and smiled widely, kissing him lovingly.

“I love you, Fenris.” he breathed, moving to lay beside him without pulling out, slinging one of the elf's legs over his hip to keep close.

“I-...I love you too...” Fenris gasped, eyes fluttering as pleasure rolled through him in a wave. He raised a hand to smooth his fingers along Hawke’s jaw, and smiled warmly - unaware of the absence of the favor the mage had given him. Hawke’s favor, always tied right around his wrist where he could always see it.

It had unraveled during their passion and fallen away, the fabric frayed and worn. And Fenris closed his eyes, unaware.

Hawke held Fenris’ hand in his, kissing his palm and smiling widely. He’d been waiting to hear those words for too long. Since before this mess with Dorian. But their love had prevailed. Cut through the doubt and uncertainty that the other mages presence had created. 

The mage reached about, grabbing the pelt of fur to over the two of them and settled in, the little gust of wind swirling dust and what not to the edges of the tent and under. He didn’t say anything more, just kept Fenris pressed against him under the covers and closed his eyes, content for the first time in a long while.


	16. Shall We?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't realized this chapter want ever actually posted... I'm so sorry!

Meanwhile, Dorian was bandaging up Mahanon’s knuckles, a bowl of bloodied and dirty water sitting beside them while he wrapped the nimble fingers. He didn’t use magic around the Inquisitor’s hand- having learned from the last time that it caused it to burn and try to activate. So traditional methods of healing were required for hands. Salves and time. “Better?” he asked, kissing each bandaged knuckle while watching the other with a soft smile.

Mahanon  made a face and stuck out his tongue, but this quickly faded as Dorian’s continual warmth flooded him. He allowed a small grin to tug at his lips, and sighed. “Mm...a bit. Still hurts like blazes, but, I’ll live...”

He reached to brush his bandaged fingers over Dorian’s cheek and leaned in for a soft, gentle kiss, no less loving for its briefness. “And you? Not too badly hurt, are you, lethallin?”

Dorian smiled into the kiss, humming softly. “I’m fine. A couple of bruises but nothing too serious.” he commented as he watched Mahanon’s face. He wondered if the other thought that Dorian had chosen him after Fenris had chosen Hawke. But he didn’t want to ask and make it seem like he was backpeddaling. He’d chosen Mahanon before they’d reached the camp, even when Fenris and Hawke were on uneven ground and Dorian had had a chance. He wanted Mahanon. And he’d give himself fully to the elf. 

He wanted everything Mahanon was willing to offer. He cupped the back of the Inquisitors head and pulled him into a deeper kiss, but no less sweet and loving. “I love you, Mahanon.” he whispered against his mouth, a stupid grin on his face as he pulled back and stared into the elfs eyes- similar to Fenris’s but so much brighter and welcoming.

The elf’s eyes brightened at he words, and seemed to shine in the candlelight as a playful little smirk curved his lips. “Mm...are you just saying that because we might die tomorrow?...” he teased, trailing his fingers through Dorian’s raven locks. Of course, to hear such words made Mahanon’s heart soar in ways he’d never felt.

And, while he trusted Dorian - with his life, he trusted him!- he couldn’t help but wonder, even as deeply as he was loved, if a small part of the mage still felt for the elf across camp. Wondering that made his own movements slow, though they were no less tender. 

“I love you, too...” he smiled, nuzzling at the Tevinter mage’s jaw. “Always.”

Dorian smiled softly and shook his head. “No. I just wanted to say it. I need a reason to tell you how I feel?” he asked, tilting his head into the elfs hand. Dorian would always feel for Fenris. He’d really been Dorian’s first love. You never forgot your first love. But his heart wanted Mahanon more. He loved Mahanon more than he could say. Mahanon was his happy ending. His great adventure. His knight in shining armour. Fenris was...

Fenris was a fond memory to look back on. Dorian had caused heartache for everyone involved when he’d suggested that the two of them go around behind Hawke’s back. It created false hope that something could go right. Nothing went right by hiding it.

The mage pulled Mahanon into his lap and held him. “We aren’t going to die, tomorrow. Do you know why? Because We have a lovely feast and brand new bed to enjoy when we get back.” he teased, nuzzling his neck with a grin.

Mahanon smiled at him, and tilted his head back to give Dorian as much room as he wished. “Mm...indeed.” the Inquisitor laughed, straddling the mage’s lap. He wrapped his arms around those firm shoulders, and his voice dropped into a purr, a mingled interest and exhaustion rising to the fore. “And any man that stands between me and that bed will regret it most sorely.”

Yes, he thought. Dorian was right. They would win the day as surely as ever, they would return to Skyhold, and they’d all get drunk on Tevinter wine and have a grand old time...

Dorian chuckled softly, nodding against Mahanon’s neck before sucking a light bruise on it. “Mmhmm. What if a man lies between you and that bed? What then? Would you still make him sore in all the best ways?” he teased back, quite liking this banter. It held promise but there wasn’t any true heat behind it. THey were both too exhausted to do anything. But a nice frottage would be nice.

Slow and steady and intimate.

“Would you ride him into said bed? Or would you have him bent over and at your mercy?” he murmured back, leaning back on one hand to give Mahanon a bit more room and to be able to rock into him slowly, enjoying the friction.

A quiet groan escaped Mahanon, and he let his head fall back as his hips thrust forward, rolling sensuously against Dorian’s own. “Why...I don’t know...” he breathed, lashes fluttering. “They both sound delightful...but, of course, that depends entirely on my mood.”

The elf grinned secretively and ground his hips lazily into Dorian’s once again, long and slow and even, drawing a soft, pleased hum from the back of his own throat. “Mmm....which would this man prefer?” Mahanon chuckled. “Shall I fuck him right into it until he’s moaning and begging for my touch to release him? Or...would he prefer to see me undone? Claiming and yet claimed?”

Another lazy rock of his hips, and he trailed his fingers gently along Dorian’s bicep, tracing the strong muscle, and trying so hard not to focus on the fight ahead.

Dorian huffed out a soft gasp, eyes sliding closed for a moment before watching Mahanon astride him. “Mm, I rather think he’d like to have you tie him up and bend him over. Have you hold him down and have him beg for mercy while you took your pleasure over and over.” he whispered, head tipping back and moaning lowly.

“But I think he’d also be tempted to see you riding him, using him solely for your pleasure. Since he’s gotten between you and your bed, wouldn’t you have his bound for his punishment? Either way he is there for your use, for yourr pleasure. Unable to move away to get his own release.” he purred, kneading Mahanon’s ass now. It was such a perfect ass. And it was a thought that slipped from his lips before he realized it.

Mahanon grinned wickedly and pressed his ass right back into Dorian’s hands. “Mm...yours is, too, of course...” he murmured, and brought their hips together yet again, groaning quietly all the while. “Just think...on a bed like that, I could fuck you senseless at night...and then you could wake me up with your prick against my arse, the both of us right in the center of that massive bed.” he sighed, letting his eyes close as he leaned down for another kiss. “That way we  both get what we want...”

Dorian breathed a little deeper, groaning softly against Mahanon’s lips. “Fuck... Yeah... Everyday... You’d get worked open at night, and still be wet and loose in the morning with my seed dripping from your hole... I could slide in so easily, might not even wake you until I couldn’t be gentle anymore. You’d wake up right on the edge of climax, ready to explode...” he grunted lowly, rocking up against the elf and his perfect, perfect ass.

“Or I could wake you with my mouth around your prick... Fingers in your arse... could summon a little ice and lave it over your body with my tongue.” he stuttered out a little, getting close despite how slowly they’d been rocking. He hadn’t thought that something so simple as this, unhurried rocking and grinding, could be so... Satisfying. Normally they tried to do this, draw it out, keep it sensual... But depseration got the better of them almost every time and they ended up fucking like animals. Perhaps this is what changed relationships when love was confessed. Not everything was a desperate rush to the end. He quite liked this...

The Inquisitor moaned low in his throat and caught his lip between his teeth. “You always know just what to say...” he breathed as he pinned Dorian’s hips down against the cot and brought their hips together in one more deliciously drawn-out roll.

“You’re wonderful, ma vhenan...” Mahanon gasped into his ear as he groaned lowly and bit at the mage’s jawline to muffle his stuttered breaths as his hips jerked and stuttered, and he came inside his own trousers with a pleasured whine. “Wonderful...”

Dorian gripped onto Mahanon’s hips tightly, gasping and closing his eyes as he felt the splash of heat against his own clothed cock, arching under the rogue. He panted shallowly before one more roll of the hips sent him over, Mahanon’s name on his lips. He went limp, holding the Inquisitor against his chest while he tried to catch his breath.

“Sweet Maker, ‘Non.. I didn’t know that was a thing...” he chuckled breathlessly, actually snuggling into the other. They’d need to change their britches here soon, but it could wait a moment or two. “I never knew it could be so...Intense... so.. Intimate with clothes. Without skin to skin contact... “ he admitted softly, hands running up and down Mahanon’s back slowly.

He smiled, thinking for a moment before kissing the shoulder in front of him.

Mahanon smiled lovingly at Dorian and rolled them both onto their sides as best as the cot would allow. “Yeah...” he breathed, smiling warmly as he hugged the mage and wrapped himself around him, snuggling close. “’s wonderful....” he hummed, drowziness quickly overcoming him as his exhaustion hit him with full force, now that he was content.

“I love you, Dorian...” he murmured, nestling his face into the crook of Dorian’s neck. His eyes fluttered closed as he settled, bringing himself as close to Dorian as he could possibly be. “I love you so much...”     
                                         
Dorian smiled happily, arms going around the elf tightly to keep him close. “And I you. I love you more than I could possibly say.” Though that wouldn’t keep him from trying. He relaxed fully into the cot, breathing in Mahanon’s scent and the lingering smell of sex and sweat. He couldn’t help but let out a smug grin at the fact he’d cut off the Inquisitors vocabulary and reduced him to ‘wonderful’. The smile stayed on his face until he drifted off to join the elf in dreams.

Though he woke when the camp was rousing and hissed when the consequences of not changing out of his soiled breeches made itself known. “Ah, I should have seen that coming.” Then he snorted at his own bad joke. “Non? It’s time to wake. We also have a problem to attend to.” he cooed softly, kissing along the elfs shoulder to his ear. “Or shall I make good on my suggestions last night and tease you awake?” he hummed and pulled away to lean over the other to watch him rouse. It was quite endearing.

Mahanon hummed softly and opeoned one eye, then the other with a slow, languid stretch. “Mm....’s much as I would love that - and you’ve no idea how much I truly would-..” he smiled sleepily up at Dorian and rolled over to push himself up. “What time is it?”

A yawn caught him, and he rubbed the heel of his palm against his eye to remove the sleep, only noticing his own still-soiled trousers as he shifted on the bed to give the mage a morning kiss. “Hm....right...forgot to change our trousers, didn’t we?”

Dorian smiled widely, returning the kiss softly. “Mm, someone decided o go to sleep on me so I didn’t even have the chance to change us.” he teased softly, “And I think I know ow much you would enjoy it, amatus.” he whispered before flicking his tongue along a pointed ear.

“I hear others waking, but I dont know how high the sun is. I think we all slept in a little bit more because of the battle yesterday. Side note, never touch a rock that has stuff written on it.” he nuzzled the other before forcing himself out of the cotand onto his feet. He pushed his arms above his head, cracking his back with a satisfied groan. “Hnn, we need warm water.” he mused to himself, using the flint and steel to catch the little fire stand under the bowl. It was still filled with soiled water but a quick dump outside of the tent took care of that. He filled the bowl with the rest of the water from the pitcher and grabbed fresh rags.

The mage turned and glanced back at Mahanon before unceremoniously dropping trou, bending over to pull his feet out of the dirty clothes and tossing them aside. “Care to join me in a quick wash? I’’m sure I can get all those hard to reach spots.” he purred with a smirk, ever the flirt. 

The elf’s own grin was nearly enough to rival Dorian’s as he rose from the cot with a chuckle. “Of course. I’m /much/ too tired to give myself a wash; not after yesterday..” Mahanon sighed melodramatically, all the while stepping out of his trousers with a little wiggle. “Why, I don’t even think I could lift the rag...” 

He winked at Dorian and laughed, tossing his shirt aside as well and combing his fingers through pale platinum strands. “Hmm...might as well sluice down all over.” Mahanon said, almost as an afterthought. He pressed himself up against the mage and tugged him in for another little kiss. “ Don’t want our enemies to think the Inquisition’s a mad hoard of unwashed masses, after all...”

Dorian tsked softly, shaking his head and cocking his hip out, weight on one foot as he brought one arm across his chest and his other hand to his face. “Oh dear, that just won’t do. Our Inquisitor and fearless leader is out of commission. However shall I heal his ailments?” he stated softly, shaking his head. He slipped his arms around the other, smiling into the kiss, bumping their noses together playfully.

“Perish the thought. We are a merry band of bards that wish to spread the good word of debauchery to the world.” he replied, taking up the rag and running it over Mahanon’s back slowly, looking down at him with a soft smile and warm eyes. He truly was happy with the other, and he knew that Mahanon was happy with him, as well. While one hand moved the rag over his body, his other ran over the elfs chest, teasing a nipple without intent to follow through. Just playing with the Inquisitors body, really. Why?

Because he could. he was allowed to and so very freely. 

This felt like the night before, the intimacy without the heated fire that consumed too quickly. More like embers waiting to be stoked to a roaring flame, always hot but never burning out. 

Mahanon shivered at the gentle but pointed brush of cloth against sensitive skin, and groaned quietly against Dorian’s jaw. “And such a good word it is...” he purred, watching Dorian work through half-lidded eyes. The mage knew just how to make him writhe, how to undo him so very perfectly-....he almost didn’t want the rest of the world to be waiting just outside of their tent.

“Just-... h-how long are you going to keep that up?” he gasped at last, cheeks flushed, and body slowly flaring to life under Dorian’s careful ministrations. “I do believe the camp’s liable to leave without us at this rate...”

Yet, for some reason, Mahanon sounded anything but worried.

Dorian chuckled lowly, working over the elfs front, now. “Mm, I don’t think some of the men here would know to tie their boots without your instruction. They won’t leave without you. Now, whether they come looking for you or not has yet to be determined.” he shrugged a little, cleaning the rag and resuming his work.

He purred when the other was clean, kissing up his neck to his lips. “You are all clean, my dear.” he murured softly, setting aside the rag in order to pick up a fresh one. He started in on himself, immediately cleaning up his groin to get rid of the stiff feeling, though his cock was already plumping slowly from having had his hands all over Mahanon. They wouldn’t have much time to indulge. Although...

His eyes raked over the Inquisitors form, a brow cocking upwards. “You know... I learned a thing or two while I worked in the brothel. A unique position of double fellatio. Not sure if you’ve heard of i or tried it before.” he suggested, glancing at the flap to their tent before shaking hishead. “We may have to save it for when we return home.”

“Oh?” The Inquisitor’s brows rose in curiosity. “Did you, now?” The elf’s grin turned wicked, and he took the rag from Dorian to give the mage a few slow swipes along his chest for good measure. “Why, that sounds utterly wonderful...”

However, his gaze was caught by movement outside the tent, and he sighed, absently reaching for fresh trousers with his other hand. “...however, I do agree. Perhaps we can break in the new bed with it?” Mahanon laughed. At this rate, they wouldn’t be away from home for too much longer. Not if they caught their enemy by surprise...  

“All the more reason to hurry on home, then...” Mahanon leaned up and caught Dorian in one more kiss, before he sought to dress himself, feeling far more rested now than he had just moments before. “And in the mean-time, you’ll tell me all about what else you’ve learned at that brothel, yes?”

Dorian hummed in agreement as he reached for his own fresh clothes, first smallclothes then his pants and his robe before outfitting himself in his armour. “The things I could teach you, my dearest. Debauchery doesn’t even begin to cover it.” he hinted, sending  salacious wink at the other as he straightened everything out.

As they made their way to the tent flap he snagged the elf around the waist and kissed him deeply, holding it until he needed to breathe. “I love you. I just wanted to say it again before we go into battle and I won’t have a chance again until we return home.” he murmured before hugging him tightly, breathing in his scent before releasing him. The mage grabbed their weapons, first the twin blades Mahanon carried- offered to him with a confident smile- and then his own bladed staff. He felt ready to conquer the world with the Inquisitor by his side. 

“Shall we save the world?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We did manage to end on a good note, though. I am checking to see if there are any other logs I've missed. I don't think there are, though.


	17. Abrupt end

Unfortunately, BitsandBobs has not seen fit to respond to any of my emails nor the rp itself for months, so this fic has come to an end. I apologise to those that have subscribed to the story. Bits might reply in the future, I have no idea.

We had a huge outline of where we wanted this to lead and it was going to be fantastic, but I guess life got in the way or they got tired of the rp, I don't know. They haven't responded at all. If they do decide to one day respond to me, we'll pick back up, so don't unsubscribe just yet! But until then, the fic is finished.

I am so very sorry to have to post this!


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